PRENTICE  MULFORD'S 


STORY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT    LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT  ERNEST  COWAN 


MULFORL  -   prentice 

Prentice  Mulford's   story. 
"Life   by  Land   and    Sea,      ilew 
York:    F.  J.i\ieedharn,    publisher, 
bt.,    1889.    iv, 


52  ''H.    14th 

299  pp.  12^. 

Published  in  the 

library,  jx   most 

but  little  known 

to  California  in 

ing  for  sixteen  years,  and  his 

story  is  chiefly  of  this  richly 

colored  period. 


White  Cross 
charming  work, 
iaulford  canae 
1856,  remain- 


THE    WHITE    CROSS  LIBRARY. 


Prentice  Mulford's  Story 


Life  by  Land  and  Sea. 


PRENTICE   MULFORD. 


NEW  YORK: 
F.  J.  NEEDHAM,  PUBLISHER, 

52  West  Fourteenth  St. 
1889. 


Copyright,   1889 
By  F.  J.  NEEDHAM. 


CT 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEai  PAGE 

I.  Shadows  of  Coming  Events,        ....  5 

II.  Going  to  Sea, 14 

III.  Getting  My  Sea  Legs  On, 20 

IV.  Much  Water  and  Mutiny, 31 

V.  San  Francisco  in  1^50, 43 

VI.  As  a  Sea  Cook,    .        .        .        .        «        .        .        .51 

VII.  Sights  while  Cooking, 61 

VIII.  Whaling  in  Marguerita  Bay, 71 

IX.  Our  Butter  Fiends, 82 

X.  Guadalupe, 8G 

XI.  At  the  Gold  Mines, 90 

XII.  Swett's  Bar, 9!) 

XIII.  One  Day's  Digging, 105 

XIV.  The  Miner's  Rainy  Day 114 

XV.  The  Miner's  Sunday,     ....'..  122 

XVI.  The  Cow  Fever 129 

XVII.  Red  Mountain  Bar, 135 

XVIII.  My  California  School, 145 

XIX.  "Jimtown," 157 

XX.  Romance  of  Ah  Sam  and  Hi  Sing,  .        .        .168 

XXI.  On  a  Jury, 174 

XXII.  Some  Culinary  Reminiscences,         ....  178 


J^6U687 


IV 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII I.  The  Copper  Fever, 180 

XXIV.  Rise  and  Fall  of  Copperhead  City,      .        .        .  193 
XXV.  Prospecting, 199 

XXVI.  High  Life, 20? 

XXVII.  Leaving  High  Life, 217 

XXVIII.  The  Last  of  High  Life, 22;; 

XXIX.  On  the  Rostrum, 237 

XXX.  Running  for  Office, 246 

XXXI.  An  Early  California  Canvass,           .        .        .  254 

XXXII.  Another  Change, 262 

XXXIII.  Editing  vs.  Writing, 266 

XXXIV.  Opinions  Journalistic 275 

XXXV.  Recent  Antiquity, 279 

XXXVI.  Going  Home, 287 


PRENTICE  MULFORD'S  STORY 


CHAPTER   I. 

SHADOWS  OF  COMING  EVENTS. 

One  June  morning-,  Avlien  I  was  a  boy,  Caj)tain  Eben 
Latham  came  to  our  house,  and  the  first  g-ossip  he  un- 
loaded was,  that  "them  stories  about  finding-  gold  in 
Californy  was  all  true."  It  was  "wash  da}^"  and  our 
folks  and  some  of  the  neig-hbors  were  g-athered  in  the 
"  wash  house "  while  the  colored  help  soused  her  fat 
black  arms  in  the  suds  of  the  wash  tub. 

That  was  the  first  report  I  heard  from  California. 
Old  Eben  had  been  a  man  of  the  sea;  was  once  cap- 
tured by  a  pirate,  and  when  he  told  the  storj^,  which 
he  did  once  a  week,  he  concluded  by  rolling-  up  his 
trousers  and  showing*  the  bullet-scars  he  had  received. 

California  then  was  but  a  blotch  of  yellow  on  the 
schoolboy's  map  of  184T.  It  was  associated  onl}^  with 
hides,  tallow,  and  Dana's  "  Two  Years  Before  the 
Mast."  It  was  thoug-ht  of  principally  in  connection 
with  long--horned  savage  cattle,  lassoes,  and  Mexicans. 
Very  near  this  in  g-eneral  vacancy  and  mystery  was 
the  entire  reg-ion  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  What 
was  known  as  the  Indian  Territory  covered  an  area 
now   occupied    by   lialf    a   dozen    prosperous    States. 


6 

Texas  was  then  the  Mecca  of  adventurers  and  people 
wlio  found  it  advisable  to  leave  home  suddenly.  The 
phrase  in  those  days,  *'  Gone  to  Texas/'  had  a  meaning- 
almost  equivalent  to  *' Gone  to  the ."  Then  Cali- 
fornia took  its  place. 

The  report  slumbered  during-  the  summer  in  our  vil- 
lag-e,  but  in  the  fall  it  commenced  kiiidhng-  and  by 
winter  it  was  ablaze.  The  companies  commenced 
forming*.  It  was  not  entirely  a  strang-e  land  to  some 
of  our  people. 

Ours  Avas  a  whaling-  villag-e.  Two-thirds  of  the 
male  population  were  bred  to  the  sea.  Ever}-  bo\' 
kncAv  the  ropes  of  a  ship  as  soon  if  not  sooner  than  he 
did  his  multiplication  table.  Ours  was  a  "  trav-elled  " 
community.  They  went  nearer  the  North  and  South 
Poles  than  most  people  of  their  time  and  Behrin.g 
Straits,  the  Kamschatkan  coast,  the  sea  of  Japan, 
Rio  Janeiro,  Valparaiso,  the  Sandwich  Islands,  the 
Azores  and  the  names  of  many  other  remote  localities 
were  words  in  every  one's  mouth,  and  words,  too,  which 
we  were  familiar  with  from  childhood.  Many  of  our 
whalers  had  touched  at  San  Francisco  and  Monterej^ 
There  had  recently  been  a  g-reat  break  down  in  the 
whale  fishery.  Whale  ships  for  sale  were  plentiful. 
Most  of  them  were  boug-ht  to  carry  the  "  '49  "  rush  of 
iuerchandise  and  men  to  California. 

By  November,  1848,  California  was  the  talk  of  the 
villag-e,  as  it  was  all  that  time  of  the  whole  countrj^ 
The  g-reat  g-old  fever  rag-ed  all  winter. 

All  the  old  retired  wiialin^  captains  wanted  to  g-o, 
and  most  of  them  did  g-o.  All  the  spruce  young*  men 
of  the  place  wanted  to  go.  Companies  were  formed, 
and  there  was  much  serious  draAving-  uj)  of  constitu- 


tions  and  by-laws  for  their  regulation.  In  most  cases 
tlie  avowed  object  of  the  companies,  as  set  forth  m 
these  documents,  Avas  "Mining-  and  trading  with  the 
Indians."  Great  profit  was  expected  to  be  gotten  out 
of  the  California  Indian.  He  was  expected  to  give 
stores  of  gold  and  furs  in  exchange  for  gilt  Avatches, 
brass  chains,  beads,  and  glass  marbles.  The  companies 
bought  safes,  in  which  to  keep  their  gold,  and  also 
strange  and  complex  gold-washing  machines,  of  which 
numerous  patterns  suddenly  sprang  up,  invented  by 
Yankees  wlio  never  sa^v  and  never  were  to  see  a  gold 
mine.  Curious  ideas  were  entertained  relative  to  Cal- 
ifornia. The  Sacramento  River  was  reported  as 
abounding  in  alligators.  Colored  prints  represented 
the  adventurer  pursued  by  these  reptiles.  The  gen- 
eral opinion  was  that  it  was  a  fearfully  hot  countr^^ 
and  full  of  snakes. 

Of  the  companies  formed  in  our  vicinity,  some  had 
more  standing  and  weight  than  others,  and  member- 
ship in  them  was  eagerly  sought  for.  An  idea  pre- 
vailed that  when  this  moral  weight  and  respectability 
was  launched  on  the  shores  of  California  it  would  en- 
tail fortune  on  all  belonging  to  the  organization. 
People  with  the  lightning  glance  and  divination  of 
golden  anticipation,  saw  themselves  already  in  the 
mines  hauling  over  chunks  of  ore  and  returning  home 
v/eighed  down  with  them.  Five  years  was  the  longest 
period  any  one  expected  to  stay.  Five  years  at  most 
was  to  be  given  to  rifling  California  of  her  treasures, 
and  then  that  country  was  to  be  throws  n  aside  like  a 
used-up  newspaper  and  the  rich  adventurers  would 
spend  the  remainder  of  their  da^'S  in  wealth,  peace,  and 
prosperity  at  their  Eastern  homes.     No  one   talked 


8 

then  of  going*  oat  "to  build  up  the  glorious  State  of 
California/'  No  one  then  ever  took  any  pride  in  the 
thoug-ht  that  he  might  be  called  a  "  Calif ornian/'  So 
they  went. 

People  who  could  not  go  invested  in  men  who  could 
go,  and  paid  half  the  expense  of  their  passage  and 
outfit  on  condition  that  they  should  remit  back  half 
the  gold  they  dug.  This  description  of  Argonaut  sel- 
dom paid  any  dividends.  I  doubt  if  one  ever  sent 
back  a  dollar.  Eastern  shareholders  really  got  their 
money's  worth  in  gilded  hopes,  which  with  them  lasted 
for  years.  But  people  never  put  such  brilliant  antici- 
pations on  the  credit  side  of  the  account;  and  merely 
because  that,  at  the  last,  they  are  not  realized. 

As  the  winter  of  "'48"  weaned  the  companies,  one 
after  another,  set  sail  for  the  land  of  gold.  The  Sun- 
day preceding  they  listened  to  farewell  sermons  at 
church.  I  recollect  seeing  a  score  or  two  of  the  young 
Argonauts  thus  preached  to.  They  were  admonished 
frojn  the  pulpit  to  behave  temperately^,  virtuously, 
wisely",  and  piously.  How  seriously  the}^  listened. 
How  soberly  were  their  narrow-brimmed,  straight- 
up-and-down,  little  plug  hats  of  that  period  piled  one 
atop  the  other  in  front  of  them.  How  glistened  their 
hair  with  the  village  barber's  hair  oil.  How  pro- 
nounced the  creak  of  their  tight  boots  as  they  marched 
up  the  aisle.  How  brilliant  the  hue  of  their  neck-ties. 
How  patientl^^  and  resignedly  they  listened  to  the  sad 
discourse  of  the  minister,  knowing  it  would  be  the  last 
they  would  hear  for  many  months.  How  eager  the 
glances  they  cast  up  to  the  church  choir,  wliere  sat 
the  girls  they  were  to  marry  on  their  return.  How 
few   returned.     How   few   married   the    girl   of    that 


9 


period's  choice.  How  little  weighed  the  words  of  the 
minister  a  year  afterward  in  the  hurry-scurry  of  the 
San  Francisco  life  of  '49  and  '50. 

What  an  innocent,  unsophisticated,  inexperienced 
lot  were  those  forty  odd  young  Argonauts  who  sat  in 
those  pews.  Not  one  of  them  then  could  bake  his  own 
bread,  turn  a  flapjack,  re-seat  his  trousers,  or  wash 
his  shirt.  Not  one  of  them  had  dug  even  a  post-hole. 
All  had  a  vague  sort  of  impression  that  Califonna 
was  a  nutshell  of  a  country  and  that  they  would  see 
each  other  there  frequently  and  eventually  all  return 
home  at  or  about  the  same  time.  How^  little  they 
realized  that  one  was  to  go  to  the  Northern  and  one 
to  the  Southern  mines  and  one  to  remain  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  the  three  never  to  meet  again!  What  glit- 
tering gold  mines  existed  in  their  brains  even  during 
the  preaching  of  that  sermon!  Holes  where  the  gold 
was  put  out  by  the  shovelful,  from  which  an  occa- 
sional boulder  or  pebble  was   picked   out  and  flung 

away. 

The  young  Argonaut,  church  being  dismissed,  took 
his  little  stiff,  shiny  plug  and  went  home  to  the  last 
Sunday  tea.  And  that  Sunday  night,  on  seeing  her 
home  from  church  for  the  last  time,  he  was  allowed  to 
sit  up  with  her  almost  as  long  as  he  pleased.  The 
light  glimmered  long  from  the  old  homestead  front 
parlor  Avindow.  The  cold  north  wind  without  roared 
among  the  leafless  sycamores  and  crashed  the 
branches  together.  It  was  a  sad,  sad  pleasure.  The 
old  sofa  they  sat  upon  would  be  sat  upon  by  them  no 
more  for  years.  For  years  ?  Forever  in  many  cases. 
To-day,  old  and  gray,  gaunt  and  bent,  somewhere  in 
the  gulches,  "up  North"  somewhere,  hidden  away  in 


10 

an  obscure  mining-  camp  of  tlie  Tuolumne,  Stanislaus, 
or  Mokelumnc,  up  in  Cariboo  or  down  in  Arizona,  still 
he  recollects  that  nig-ht  as  a  dream.  And  she  ?  Oh, 
she  dried  her  eyes  and  married  the  stay-at-home  five 
years  after.  A  girl  can't  wait  forever.  And  besides, 
bad  reports  after  a  time  reached  home  about  him.  He 
drank.  He  gambled.  He  found  fair  friends  among  the 
seiioritas.     And,  Avorse  than  all,  he  made  no  fortune. 

By  spring-  most  of  the  Argonauts  had  departed. 
With  them  went  the  flower  of  the  village.  Their 
absence  made  a  big-  social  gap,  and  that  for  many  a 
day.  The  girls  they  left  behind  tried  for  a  time  to 
live  on  hope,  and  afterward  ^'  took  up  "  and  made  the 
most  of  the  younger  generation  of  boys.  They  re- 
membered that  after  all  they  were  not  widow^s.  Wh^' 
should  their  mourning  be  permanent  ?  Twere  selfish 
for  the  departed  Argonaut  to  demand  it.  And  who 
knew  how  these  Args  might  console  themselves  on 
arriving  in  San  Francisco  ? 

After  man}^  months  came  the  first  letters  from  San 
Francisco,  and  then  specimens  of  gold  dust  and  gold 
pieces.  The  gold  dust  came  in  quills  or  in  vials,  mixed 
with  black  sand.  But  this  dust  w^as  not  ahvays  dug- 
by  the  moral  Argonauts,  from  w^hom  the  most  was 
expected.  It  was  often  the  gathering-  of  some  of  the 
obscurer  members  of  our  community.  Fortune  was 
democratic  in  her  favors. 

In  the  course  of  two  years  a  few  of  the  "boys" 
came  straggling  back.  The  first  of  these  arrivals,  I 
remember,  walked  up  our  main  street,  wearing*  on  his 
shoulders  a  brilliant-hued  Mexican  serape.  It  created 
a  sensation.     All  the  small  boys  of  the  village  "  tagged 


11 

on  behind  him/'  a  sort  of  impromptu  guard  of  honor. 
The  serape  was  about  all  he  did  bring-  home.  He 
talked  a  great  deal  of  gold  and  brought  specimens, 
but  not  in  sufficient  quantity  to  pay  all  outstanding 
bills.  The  next  of  the  returned  was  a  long,  gaunt, 
yellow  case  of  Chagres  fever.  He  brought  only 
gloom.  Along  in  1853-5-4  came  a  few  of  the  more  for- 
tunate who  had  made  a  ^^  raise."  Two  returned  and 
paid  up  their  creditors  in  full  who  had  been  by  credi- 
tors given  over.  But  few  came  to  remain.  They 
"staid  around '^  home  a  few  weeks,  turned  up  their 
noses  at  the  small  prices  asked  for  drinks,  cigars,  and 
stews,  treated  everybody,  grew  restless  and  were  olT 
again.  Relatives  of  the  not  returned  beset  them  with 
inquiries  which  the}^  found  it  difficult  to  answer,  be- 
cause there  was  an  idea  prevalent  in  the  villag'e  that 
a  man  in  California  ought  to  make  mone}^,  and  wh}^ 
didn't  he  ? 

Up  to  18G0  a  "returned  Californian"  was  an  object 
of  curiosity-  and  of  some  importance  if  he  brought  any 
money  with  him,  or  rather  as  long  as  the  money  he 
brought  with  him  la  sted.  But  "  the  w^ar  "  wiped  them 
out  in  this  respect.  The  California  fortune  of  that 
time  was  a  mere  pimple  compared  with  the  fortunes 
made  by  the  war.  A  generation  now  exists  to  whom 
the  whole  Argonaut  exodus  is  but  an  indifferent  stor3\ 

Sometimes  on  visiting  my  native  village  I  stand' 
before  one  of  those  old-fashioned  houses,  from  whose 
front  door  thirty-four  years  ago  there  w^ent  forth  for 
the  last  time  the  young  Argonaut  on  his  way  to  the 
ship.  There  is  more  than  one  such  house  in  the  vil- 
lage.    The  door  is  double,  the  knocker  is  still  upon  it. 


12 

the  window  panes  are  smal-l,  the  front  gate  is  the 
same  and  up  to  the  door  the  same  stones  lie  upon  the 
walk.  But  within  all  are  stiTingers.  The  father  and 
mother  are  past  anxious  inquiry  of  their  son.  The 
sisters  are  married  and  live  or  have  died  elseAvhere. 
A  new  g-eneration  is  all  about.  They  never  heard  of 
him.  The  great  event  of  that  period,  the  sailing  of 
that  ship  for  California^  is  sometimes  recalled  b}^  a 
few — a  feAV  rapidly  diminishing.  His  name  is  all  but 
forgotten.  Some  have  a  dim  remembrance  of  him. 
In  his  time  he  was  an  im^Dortant  3^oung  man  in  the 
village.  He  set  the  fashion  in  collars  and  the  newest 
style  of  plugs.  Oh,  fame,  how  fleeting!  What  is  a 
generation  ?  A  puff.  A  few  old  maids  recollect  him. 
What  a  pity,  what  a  shame  tliat  we  do  all  fade  as  a 
leaf! 

What  a  sad  place;  what  a  living  grave  is  this  for 
him  to  return  to!  Where  would  he  find  the  most 
familiar  names  ?  In  the  cemetery.  Who  would  he 
feel  most  like  ?  Like  "  Rip  Van  Winkle.^  Who  are 
these  bright  and  blooming  lasses  passing  by  ?  They 
are  her  grown-up  children — she  with  whom  he  sat  up 
that  last  Sunday  night  in  the  old-fashioned  front  par- 
lor on  the  old-fashioned  sofa.  Where  is  she  ?  That  is 
she,  that  stout,  middle-aged  woman  across  the  street. 
Is  she  thinking  of  him?  No;  she  is  thinking  whether 
there  shall  be  cabbage  or  turnips  for  dinner.  Who  is 
that  codger^^-looking  man  going  up  the  street.  That 
is  the  man  she  didn't  wait  for  and  married.  Should 
the  Argonaut  I'eturn  home  if  he  could?  No.  Let  him 
stay  where  he  is  and  dream  on  of  her  as  she  was, 
bright,  gay,  lively,  blooming,  and   possiblj^  romantic. 


13 

The   dream    is    solid   happiness    compared    witli    the 
reaUt3^ 

The  recollections  treated  in  this  chapter  are  to  me 
as  a  commencement  and  an  ending-  of  the  shadows  of 
a  series  of  coming-  events. 


14 


CHAPTER  11. 

GOING  TO   SEA. 

Eight  years  later  I  shipped  "  before  the  mast "  on 
the  A  1  first-class  clipper  Wizard  bound  from  New 
York  to  San  Francisco. 

When  I  made  up  my  mind  to  become  a  sailor,  I  had 
tried  several  of  this  world^s  calling's  and  seemed  to 
find  none  suitable.  I  had  asked  counsel  of  several 
elderly  gentlemen  in  my  native  village  as  to  the  best 
wa3^  of  securing-  all  things  needful  during  m^^  sojourn 
in  this  world.  The3^  said  many  wise  and  good  things. 
They  looked  wise  and  good.  But  really  the  wordy 
help  they  offered  was  unsatisfactory.  So  I  cut  the 
knot  myself  and  said  I  would  be  a  sailor.  I  explained 
to  my  male  and  female  friends  that  I  felt  myself  des- 
tined for  a  maritime  career.  I  needed  more  excitement 
than  could  be  got  out  of  a  shore  humdrum  life.  The 
sea  was  the  place  for  enterprising  youthful  Americans. 
The  American  merchant  marine  needed  American 
officers  and  sailors.  All  heard  me  and  agreed.  No 
doubt  it  was  the  best  thing.  And  I  talked  on  and  they 
agreed  with  all  my  arguments.  How  people  will  agree 
with  you  when  it's  all  one  to  them  what  you.  do !  I 
was  eighteen  and  in  most  respects  a  fool,  including 
this — that  I  did  not  know  it. 

The  Wizard,  on  which  I  shipped  with  five  other  boys 
from  my  native  town,  was  a  first-class  clipper.  She 
was  a  fine  thing  to  look  at  from  a  distance,  either  as 


15 

she  lay  at  anchor,  the  tracery  of  her  spars  and  rigging 
in  reUef  against  the  sky,  or  speeding  along  under  stud- 
ding sails  rigged  out  on  both  sides.  But  once  on 
board  and  inside  her  symmetrical  lines,  things  were 
not  so  beautiful.  Those  white,  cloud-like  sails  tore 
men's  fingers  as,  hard  and  heavy  with  ice  or  snow,  the 
sailors  tried  to  furl  them.  Those  graceful  tapering 
yards,  supporting  the  studding  sails,  strained  and 
half-crushed  men's  backs  when  lowered  and  toted 
about  the  deck.  There  were  wooden  belaying-pins, 
iron  marline-spikes  and  other  miscellaneous  things  to 
fling  at  men's  heads  b^^  those  in  authority.  Those 
cobweb-like  ropes  had  hard,  thick  ends  lying  coiled  on 
deck  to  lasli  men's  bodies. 

We,  the  six  bo3'S,  were  obliged  to  leave  our  native 
heaths  because  there  wasn't  room  for  us  on  them  to 
earn  our  bread  and  clothes.  We  were  not  clearly 
aware  of  this  at  the  time,  though  an  unspoken  senti- 
ment prevailed  there,  as  it  does  in  most  of  the  older 
settled  States,  that  the  young  man  must  move  away 
to  "seek  his  fortune."  Ten  years  previous  we  should 
have  entered  the  whaling  service.  But  the  whale  fish- 
ery had  utterly  failed.  Once  it  was  the  outlet  for 
nearly  all  the  brawn  and  muscle  of  our  island. 

The  Captain  of  the  Wizard  was  from  our  native 
town.  Therefore  mj'self  and  the  five  other  bo^^s  had 
shipped  under  him,  expecting  special  favors.  A  mis- 
take. Never  sail  under  a  Captain  who  knows  j^our 
folks  at  home.  You  have  no  business  to  expect  fav- 
oritism; he  has  no  business  to  grant  it. 

I  was  the  last  of  the  six  young  lubbers  to  leave  the 
town  for  New  York.  On  the  morning  of  my  departure 
the  mothers,  sisters,  and  other  female  relatives  of  the 


16 

five  who  had  g-one  before  discovered  man}'  other  things 
which  they  deemed  necessary'  for  the  urchins  to  carry 
on  the  vo^^ag-e.  So  the^^  bore  down  on  me  with  them, 
and  I  bade  most'  of  these  good  people  an  earthly  fare- 
well, loaded  down,  in  addition  to  my  own  traps,  with 
an  assorted  cargo  of  cakes,  sweetmeats,  bed  quilts, 
Bibles,  tracts,  and  one  cop^^  of  "Young's  Night 
Thoughts  "  for  the  boys. 

I  ate  my  last  dinner  as  a  free  man  at  a  Broadway 
restaurant,  and  then  I  went  to  the  wharf  where  the 
ship  lay.  Already  the  tug  Avas  alongside,  preparatory 
to  hauling  her  out  in  the  stream.  I  went  up  the  i^lank 
and  over  the  side.  A  gentleman  in  authority  asked 
me,  as  I  stepped  on  deck,  if  I  belonged  to  the  ship.  I 
said  I  did.  "  Take  off  those  togs,  then,  put  on  3^our 
working"  duds  and  turn  to,  then,^^  he  remarked.  The 
togs  went  off.  I  put  on  m^^  canvas  pants  and  flannel 
shirt,  the  garb  of  sea  servitude.  Hencefoi^th  I  was  a 
slave.  The  ship  just  then  was  not  a  Sunda^'-school 
nor  a  Societ}'  for  Ethical  Culture.  It  was  a  howling 
pandemonium  of  oaths  and  orders.  Fully  one-third  of 
the  able  seamen  had  not  recovered  from  their  closing- 
out  shore  spree,  and"  had  tumbled  into  their  berths  or 
were  sprawled  on  deck  drunk.  Carg-o  in  cases,  bales, 
boxes,  and  barrels  was  still  rattled  over  the  bulwarks 
and  into  the  hold.  Ever^^body  seemed  to  be  swearing 
— first,  each  one  on  his  own,  private  account,  and  sec- 
ondly, all  in  one  general  chorus  for  mutual  purposes. 
Many  people  seemed  in  command.  I  couldn't  distin- 
g'uish  the  officers  of  the  ship  from  the  stevedores. 
Still  officers  continued  to  turn  up  everywhere,  and 
each  officer  ordered  me  to  some  particular  and  sepa- 
rate duty. 


17 

The  world  looked  pretty  black  to  me  then.  I  wished 
there  was  some  way  out  of  it.  On  shore  the  i^eriod 
between  the  foremast  hand  and  the  position  of  Cap- 
tain was  only  the  duration  of  a  thought.  Here  it  was 
an  eternity.  Day  dreams  are  short,  real  experience  is 
long".  But  all  this  is  often  in  youth  a  difficult  matter 
to  realize. 

There  came  along-  a  short,  stout  man  with  a  deeper 
voice  and  more  sonorous  oath  than  anybody  else. 
This  was  the  fourth  and  last  mate.  It  was  a  relief  to 
find  at  last  the  end  of  the  mates  and  to  know  the 
exact  number  of  men  legitimately  entitled  to  swear  at 
me.  This  gentleman  for  a  season  concentrated  him- 
self entirely  on  me.  He  ordered  me  with  a  broom 
and  scraper  into  the  ship's  pig-pen,  which  he  argued 
needed  cleaning.  This  was  my  first  well-defined  mai'i- 
time  duty.  It  was  a  lower  round  of  the  ladder  than 
I  had  anticipated.  It  seemed  in  its  nature  an  occupa- 
tion more  bucolic  than  nautical.  I  would  have  pre- 
ferred, also,  that  compliance  with  the  order  had  not 
been  exacted  until  the  ship  had  left  llie  wliarf,  because 
there  were  several  shore  visitors  on  board,  and  among 
them  two  of  my  intimate  friends  Avho  had  come  to  see 
me  olf.  There  they  stood,  in  all  the  bravery  of  silk 
hats  and  fashionably-cut  attire,  conversing  on  terms 
of  equality  Avith  the  first  mate.  They  could  talk  with 
him  on  the  weather  or  any  subject.  I,  b^^  virtue  of 
my  inferior  position,  was  not  at  liberty'  to  speak  to 
this  potentate  at  all. 

I  jumped  into  the  pig-pen.  Thus  destin}^  despite 
our  inclinations,  forces  clown  our  throats  these  bitter 
pills.  The  fourth  mate  was  not  more  than  a  year  my 
senior.     He  stood  over  me  during  the  entire  process 


18 

and  scolded,  cursed,  and  commanded.  My  shore 
friends  looked  on  from  afar  and  grinned.  Already 
they  saw  the  g-reat  social  chasm  which  yawned  be- 
tween me  and  them,  and  governed  their  actions  ac- 
cordingly. Already  did  they  involuntarily  patronize 
me.  It  requires  a  wise  man  to  detect  the  wickedness 
and  deceit  in  his  own  nature.  Probably  I  should  have 
similarh'  acted  had  our  positions  been  reversed.  The 
mate  was  very  particular.  He  made  me  sweep  and 
scrape  every  corner  with  an  elaborate  and  painful  ac- 
curacy. He  sent  me  into  the  pig's  house  to  further 
perfect  the  work.  I  was  obliged  to  enter  it  in  an 
almost  recumbent  position.  The  pig  ran  out  dis- 
gusted. I  scraped  his  floor  in  a  similar  mood.  Thus 
commenced  life  on  the  ocean  wave. 

But  I  g'ot  even  with  the  mate.  Destiny'  made  me 
m^^  own  involuntary  avenger  of  the  indignity'  put 
upon  me.  By  indignit^^  I  don't  mean  the  cleaning  of 
the  pig-pen.  That  was  an  honorable,  though  menial 
occupation — at  least  in  theory.  Cincinnatus  on  his 
farm  may  have  done  the  same  thing.  But  I  do  mean 
the  scurrility  and  abuse  the  young  officer  bestowed  on 
me,  while  I  did  m^^  best  to  execute  his  bidding. 

I  hauled  the  young  man  overboard  about  three 
minutes  afterward,  but  he  never  knew  I  did  it,  and  I 
never  allowed  myself  to  think  of  the  occurrence  while 
on  shipboard,  for  fear  the  powers  of  the  air  might 
ventilate  the  matter.  It  came  about  in  this  wa}' :  A 
line  was  passed  through  a  hawse-hole  forward  to  the 
tug,  which  was  puffing,  fretting,  fuming,  and  churning 
with  her  screw  the  mud-ooze  and  garbage  floating  in 
the  slip  into  a  closer  fusion.  My  friend  the  mate 
stood  on  the  fore-chains  with  the  end  of  the  heavy 


19 

rope  in  both  hands,  trymg-  to  pass  it  to  those  on  the 
tug".  This  hne  running-  through  the  hawse-hole  aft 
was  lying  near  where  I  stood.  Some  one  called  out: 
"Haul  in  on  that  line!''  I  supposed  that  the  order 
referred  to  nie  and  the  hawser  l^'ing  at  niy  side.  So  I 
hauled  with  all  my  might.  I  felt  at  first  some  resist- 
ance— something  like  a  tug-ging  at  the  other  end.  I 
hauled  all  the  harder.  Then  something  seemed  to  give 
way.  It  hauled  easier.  I  heard,  coincident  with  these 
sensations,  a  splash,  loud  cries,  much  swearing  and  the 
yell  of  "Man  overboard!  "  I  raised  my  liead  over  the 
bulwarks  and  there  was  my  mate,  floundering  amid 
dock  ooze,  rotten  oranges,  and  salt  water.  It  was  he 
who  held  the  other  end  of  the  line,  and  my  hauling  had 
caused  the  centre  of  gravity  in  his  short  bod^'  to  shift 
beyond  the  base,  and  in  accordance  with  a  natural 
law  he  had  gone  overboard.  He  was  the  general 
cynosure  of  all  eyes.  They  fished  him  out,  wet  and 
swearing.  There  was  a  vigorous  demand  for  the  mis- 
creant who  had  been  hauling  on  the  line.  I  was  as  far 
as  possible  from  the  spot  and  kept  myself  very  busy. 
Bluster  went  below  and  changed  his  clothes.  I  was 
aveneed. 


20 


CHAPTER   III. 

GETTING   MY   SEA   LEGS   ON. 

We  were  towed  into  the  stream  and  anchored  for 
the  nig-ht.  To  look  at  New  York  City,  with  its  many 
hg'hts  and  its  thousands  amusing-  themselves  in  vari- 
ous Ava^'s,  from  the  ship's  deck,  without  the  possibility 
of  joining  them,  was  to  feel  for  the  first  tune  the  slav- 
ery of  marine  life.  Emerging  very  early  next  morn- 
ing" from  the  "  boys'  house,"  I  found  everything  in  tlie 
bustle  and  confusion  of  g-etting-  under  way.  A  long- 
file  of  men  were  tramping  aft  Avith  a  very  Avet  haAvser. 
As  I  stood  lools:ing  at  them  m}^  ear  was  seized  by  our 
Dutch  third  mate,  Avho  accompanied  tlie  action  Avith 
the  remarl\,  ^'  Cooms,  I  puts  you  to  Avork."  He  con- 
ducted me  in  this  manner  to  the  rope  and  bade  me  lay 
hold  of  it.  I  did  so.  I  could  have  done  so  with  a  bet- 
ter heart  and  aa^II  had  it  not  been  for  the  needless  and 
degrading-  manner  in  which  he  enforced  his  command. 
Most  men  do  their  Avork  just  as  Avell  for  being  treated 
Avith  a  certain  courtesy  of  command  due  from  the 
superior  to  the  inferior. 

At  noon  the  tug-  cast  off.  The  Highlands  of  Nave- 
sink  sank  to  a  cloud  in  tlie  distance.  The  voyage 
had  commenced.  All  hands  Avere  mustered  aft.  The 
Captain  appeared  and  made  them  a  short  speech. 
He  hoped  Ave  Avould  all  do  our  duty  and  that  the  A^oy- 
ag-e  Avould  be  a  pleasant  one.  It  Avas  not  a  pleasant 
one  at  all.     HoAvever,  that  Avas  all  m  the  future.     The 


21 

first  and  second  mates  then  chose  the  men  for  their 
respective  watches,  commencing-  with  the  able  seamen, 
then  picking"  out  the  ordinary  seamen,  and  finally  de- 
scending- to  the  boys.  Of  course  the  best  of  all  these 
g-rades  were  picked  off  first.  I  think  I  was  among-  the 
last  of  the  bo^'S  who  were  chosen. 

The  first  nig-ht  out  was  fine.  The  Wizard  slig-htl^^ 
bowed  to  the  ocean,  and  the  sails  seemed  g-reat  black 
l^atches,  waving*  to  and  fro  ag-ainst  the  sk}-.  The  six 
boys,  so  soon  to  be  miserable,  gathered  in  a  cluster  on 
deck.  Jed  Coles  proposed  that  we  "spin  3'^arns."'  It 
was  the  nauticall^'  correct  way  of  passing-  the  time. 
So  we  "  spun  yarns,^'  or  at  least  Jed  did.  He  had  a 
batch  ready  for  the  occasion.  He  sat  on  a  tub,  put  an 
enormous  chew  of  tobacco  in  his  mouth,  hitched  up 
his  trousers  and  felt  every  inch  a  sailor.  I  noticed  the 
second  mate,  that  incarnation  of  evil  and  brutality, 
hovering-  about  us,  dark  as  it  was.  I  saw  his  fiendish 
g-rin  and  the  g-lare  of  his  g-reenish  eye.  A  precious  lot 
of  3'oung'  fools  we  must  have  seemed  to  him.  A  little 
after  our  yarn  spinning- was  interrupted  by  shrieks  and 
cries  of  distress  proceeding-  from  the  forward  part  of 
the  ship.  We  had  then  our  first  exhibition  of  the 
manner  of  enforcing-  American  merchant-service  dis- 
cipline. The  second  mate  was  beating-  Cumming-s,  a 
simple  being-,  who,  having-  sailed  only  in  "fore-and- 
aft  "  coasting-  vessels,  had  made  the  mistake  of  ship- 
ping* as  an  ordinary  seaman  on  a  scjuare-rig-g-ed  craft, 
and  was  almost  as  nmcli  at  sea  in  his  knowledge  of  the 
ropes  as  the  "boys."  This  officer  had  sing-led  out 
Cumnnngs  for  his  awkwardness  as  the  proper  man  to 
"haze."  He  was  showering-  upon  hnn  blows,  thick 
and  fast,  with  the  end  of  one  of  the  fore  braces.     It 


22 

was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  a  man  beaten  by 
one  in  autlioi'ity.  The  ci'iiig'ing-  attitude,  the  cries, 
sobs,  and  supplications  of  a  full-g-rown  man,  and  the 
oatlis  and  terrible  ferocit^^  of  his  castig-ator,  were  in- 
expressibly shocking-  to  me.  The  incident,  which  was 
often  repeated  during-  the  voyage,  broke  up  our  ama- 
teur yarning  and  made  us  very  thoughtful. 

Jedediah  Coles  was  not  at  all  nautically  loquacious 
the  next  night.  Then  the  Gulf  Stream  gave  us  a  touch 
of  its  tantrums.  All  during  the  afternoon  the  sky 
g-rew  more  and  more  threatening.  By  dark  it  was 
blowing  hard.  The  lighter  sails  one  by  one  were 
stowed.  Then  it  blew  harder.  The  mate  swore  the 
harder.  The  Captain  came  on  deck  and  swore  at 
everybod3\  One  of  the  "boys"  asked  him  if  he 
thought  it  would  be  stormy.  He  considered  himself 
privileged  to  ask  the  Captain  that  question.  He  was 
a  native  of  the  same  village.  His  father  and  the  Cap- 
tain were  friends,  and  his  mother  and  the  Captain's 
wife  visited  each  other.  So  he  deemed  it  advisable  to 
establish  himself  on  a  sociable  footing  with  the  Cap- 
tain at  the  commencement  of  the  voyage.  Poor  bo}- ! 
Never  again  during  the  trip  did  he  consult  the  Caj)- 
tain  meteorologically.  He  learned  speedil}^  the  great 
gulf  which  yawus  between  the  cabin  and  the  fore- 
castle. 

It  grew  dark,  the  waves  became  bigger  and  bigger, 
and  the  ship  seemed  taxed  to  her  utmost  trying  to 
clamber  them  one  after  another  as  the^^  presented 
themselves.  The  mates  came  out  in  their  oilskins. 
The  order  was  given  to  reef  topsails.  Gangs  of  men 
ran  liither  and  tliitluT,  pulling  here,  hanling  there, 
and  running  straight  over  us  wlu^never  we  got  in  their 


23 

way,  and  it  seemed  impossible  to  get  out  of  their  way. 
Everything-    became    unsettled     and    uncomfortable. 
The  ship  would  not  keep  still.     New  complications  of 
ropes  and  hauling-gear  were  developed.     The  capstan 
in  the  waist  was  manned,  and  round  and  round  went 
the  sailors,  while  the  deck  they  trod  v»'as  inclined  in 
all   manner  of    uncomfortable    angles.      Tackle   and 
great  blocks  were  hooked   to  ringbolts,  and  a  vast 
amount  of  what  seemed  to  me  fruitless  hauling  went 
on.     Barrels  of  water  swashed   over  the   bulwarks, 
knocking  us  down  and  drenching  us.     Wet  and  shiver- 
ing we   clung  to   belaying  pins   or  anything  within 
reach,  of  no  earthly  use  to  anybody,  thinking  of  the 
cheerfully  lit,  well-warmed  rooms  and  comfortable  tea- 
tables  even  then  set   but  so  few  miles  away  on  the 
shores  of  Long  Island.     When  the  order  came  to  reef, 
and  I  saw  the  men  clambering  up  the  fore  and  main 
rigging,  I  added  myself  to  their  number,  though  I  felt 
I  should  never  come  down  again— at  least  in  one  piece. 
It  was  my  debut  aloft  olf  soundings.     Many  a  time 
had  I  clambered  about  the  rigging  of  the  old  whalers 
as  tliey  lay  at  the  village  wharf,  but  they  were  not 
roaring,  kicking,  and  plunging  like  this  vessel.     Heavy 
seamen's  boots  kicked  me  in  the  face  as  I  followed  their 
wearers  up  this  awful  ascent;   other  heavy  boots  trod 
on  my  fingers;  they  shook  the  ratlines,  too,  in  a  most 
uncomfortable     manner.       The     mast    strained    and 
groaned  fearfully.     Somehow,  after  climbing  over  some 
awful  chasms,  I  got  on  the  yard  with  the  men.     I 
dared  not  go  out  far.     The  foot  rope  wobbled,  jerked, 
and  gave  way  under  me  at  times  with  the  weight  and 
motion  of  the  men  upon  it.     The  great  sail  seemed  in 
irj  humor  to  be  furled.     It  hauled  away  from  us,  bel^ 


24 

lied,  puffed,  and  kept  up  a  g-ig-antic  series  of  thunder- 
ing- flaps.  Laying  over  on  the  yard  the  men  wouUl 
gather  in  as  much  of  the  hard,  wet,  wire-Uke  canvas 
as  possible  and  then  tog-ether  haul  back  on  it. 

This  I  objected  to.  It  was  risky  enough  to  laj^  out 
on  an  enormous  stick  sixty  feet  in  the  air,  while  the 
wind  tore  our  voices  from  us  and  seemed  to  hurl  the 
words  far  away  ere  the^^  had  well  got  out  of  our 
mouths,  and  the  white-topped  waves,  dimh^  seen  be- 
low, seemed  leaping  up  and  snatching  at  us.  But  at 
that  heiglit,  and  amid  all  that  motion,  to  balance  one's 
body  on  the  stomach,  grasp  with  outstretched  arms  a 
hard  roll  of  struggling,  v\^et  canvas,  while  the  legs 
were  as  far  extended  the  other  wsiy  and  the  feet  rest- 
ing only  ag-ainst  a  rope  Avorking  and  wobbling-  and 
g-ivin^  way  here  and  tliere  from  the  weight  of  fifteen 
hundred  pounds  of  men  unequally  distributed  over  it, 
was  a  task  and  seeming  risk  too  g-reat  for  my  courage. 
I  dared  do  nothing-  but  hold  on.  The  conduct  of  the 
maintopsail  was  desperate  and  outrageous.  It  seemed 
straining  every  nerve — supposing,  for  the  sake  of  forc- 
ible expression,  that  it  had  nerves — to  pull  us  off  the 
yard  and  "  into  the  great  deep."  I  found  myself  be- 
tween two  old  sailors,  who  lost  no  time  in  convincing 
me  of  my  complete  and  utter  worthlessness  aloft.  I 
concurred.  They  bade  me  clear  out  and  get  down  on 
deck.  I  was  glad  to  do  so.  Reefing  topsails  in  reality 
was  very  different  from  reefing  them  in  l>ooks  or  in 
imagination.  On  reaching  the  deck  I  concluded  to  lie 
down.  All  throucrh  the  evening  I  had  experienced  an 
uneasy  sensation  in  the  stomach.  I  argued  with  my- 
self  it  was  not  seasickness — something  did  not  agree 
with  me.     But  wlien  I  lay  down  in  the  scuppers  I  ad- 


luitted  being-  seasick.  Then  I  onh^  cared  to  lie  there. 
Life  was  too  miserable  even  to  hope  in.  The  tumult 
Avent  on  as  ever.  The  sailors  trampled  over  me.  Be- 
ing- in  the  way,  they  drag'g-ed  me  aside.  I  cared  not . 
Finally  some  one  bawled  in  my  ear,  "  Sick!  g-o  below." 
I  went.  The  five  other  bo3^s,  all  similarly  affected,  all 
caring-  naug'ht  for  life  or  living-,  lay  in  their  bunks. 

The  boys'  house  was  about  the  size  of  a  respectable 
pig-  pen — a  single  pig-  pen.  There  was  room  in  it  for 
two  boys  to  turn  at  once,  providing-  they  turned 
slowly  and  carefully.  On  g'oing-  on  l)oard  we  had  b(^- 
stowed  such  of  our  outfit  as  coidd  be  broug-ht  into  this 
pen  in  tlie  manner  in  which  boys  of  sixteen  bestow 
thing's  g-eneralU^  on  first  commencing-  to  "keep  house."' 
Everything-  was  arrang-€^d  on  a  terra  finna  basis.  We 
made  no  calculation  for  the  ship's  deviating-  from  an 
even  keel.  When  she  did  commence  to  pitch  every- 
thing- fell  down.  Clothing-  fell  on  the  floor;  plates, 
knives,  forks,  cups  and  bottles  rolled  from  shelf  and 
bunk;  bread,  meat,  and  the  molasses  kegs  fell;  plum 
and  si)ong'e  cake,  pic  and  sweetmeats  fell;  for  each 
boy  had  a  space  in  liis  sea-chest  filled  with  these  arti- 
cles, placed  there  b^'  kind,  dear  relatives  at  home.  It 
was  intended  that  we  should  not  refer  to  tliem  until 
the  ship  was  far  advanced  on  her  voyage.  But  we 
never  had  such  larg-e  supplies  of  cake  and  sweetmeats 
at  hand  before;  so  we  went  for  these  thing's  immedi- 
ately. The  liouse  abounded  with  tliem  the  first  nig'ht 
out.  The  roof  leaked.  We  left  our  sliding-door  care- 
lessly open,  and  a  few  barrels  of  the  ocean  slopped 
over  the  bulwarks  into  the  apartment.  At  nud night 
our  combined  clothing,  plates,  nuigs,  knives,  forks, 
bottles,  water-keg's,  combs,  hair-brushes,  hats,  pants, 


26 

coats,  meat,  bread,  pie,  cake,  sweetmeats,  molasses, 
salt  water,  and  an  occasional  seasick  and  despairing- 
boy,  united  to  form  a  wet,  sodden  mass  on  the  floor 
two  feet  in  depth.  Above  the  storm  howled  and  swept 
throug-h  the  rig-ging,  with  little  sail  to  interrupt  it. 
Six  sick  and  wretched  boys  in  their  berths  la}^  "heads 
and  pints,"  as  the}"  pack  herring;  that  is,  the  toe  of 
one  rested  on  the  pillow  of  the  other,  for  it  was  not 
possible  to  lie  otherwise  in  those  narrow  receptacles 
for  the  living.  But  the  horrors  of  that  second  night 
are  not  to  be  related. 

No  solicitous  stewards  with  basins  and  tenders  of 
broth  and  champagne  attended  us.  We  were  not 
cabin  passengers  on  an  ocean  steamer.  Barely  had 
the  next  morning's  dawn  appeared  when  our  door  was 
flung  open.  In  it  stood  that  dreadful  second  mate  of 
the  greenish  eyes,  hard,  brick-red  complexion,  horny 
fists  and  raspy  voice — a  hard,  rough,  rude,  unfeeling 
man,  who  cried :  "  Come  out  of  that !  Oh,  you're 
young"  bears — your  troubles  ain't  commenced  3'et!" 
Then  his  long,  bony  arm  gripped  us  one  after  the  other 
and  tore  us  from  our  bunks.  How  unlike  getting  up 
at  home  on  a  cold  winter's  morning",  as,  snuggling  in 
our  warm  feather  beds,  we  heard  our  mothers  call 
time  after  time  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs:  "Come  now, 
g-et  up!  Breakfast  is  ready!"  And  with  the  delay 
prone  to  over-indulged  youth,  we  still  la}"  abed  until 
the  aroma  of  buckwheat  cakes  and  coffee  stealing"  to 
our  bedrooms  developed  an  appetite  and  induced  us  to 
rise.  Out,  this  dreadful  morning,  we  tumbled,  in  the 
wet  clothes  wherein  we  had  lain  all  night,  weak,  sick, 
stagg-ering,  g'icldy.  A  long  iron  hook  was  put  in  my 
hand  and  I  was  desired  to  ^o  forward  and  assist  \h 


hauling"  along  length  after  length  of  the  cable  prepar- 
atory to  stowing  it  away.  Sky  and  sea  were  all  of 
iliill,  monotonous  gray;  the  ship  was  still  clambering 
one  great  wave  after  an  another  with  tiresome  and 
l:'J)oi"ious  monotony.  All  the  canvas  of  the  preceding 
day  had  disappeared,  save  a  much-diminislied  foretop- 
s-.iil  and  storm  staysail.  The  mates  on  duty  were 
alert  and  swearing.  The  men,  not  all  fully  recovered 
from  their  last  shore  debauch,  were  grumbling  and 
swearing  also.  The  cook,  a  dark-hued  tropical  mon- 
grel, with  glittering  eyes,  was  swearing  at  something 
amiss  in  his  department.  It  was  a  miserable  time. 
But  a  cure  was  quickly  effected.  In  thirty-six  hours 
all  seasickness  had  departed.  AVith  the  delicate  pet- 
ting process  in  vogue  with  wealthy-  cabin-passengers 
it  would  have  required  a  week.  But  we  had  no  time 
in  which  to  be  seasick. 

Life  for  us  on  board  this  ship  was  commenced  on  a 
new  basis.  We  were  obliged  to  learn  "manners." 
Manners  among  modern  youth  have  become  almost 
obsolete.  The  etiquette  and  formality  required  from 
the  younger  to  the  elder,  and  common  to  the  time  of 
I)erukes  and  knee-breeches,  has  now  little  place  save 
on  shipboard,  where  such  traditions  and  customs  lin- 
ger. We  were  surprised  to  find  it  our  dut}-  to  say 
"  Sir  "  to  an  officer,  and  also  to  find  it  imperative  to 
recognize  every  order  addressed  us  by  the  remark; 
"Aye,  aye,  sir!  "  The  sullen,  shambling  fashion  of  re- 
ceiving words  addressed  us  in  silence,  so  that  the 
speaker  was  left  in  doubt  as  to  whether  he  was  heard 
or  not,  had  no  place  off  soundings.  In  short,  we  vv^ere 
obliged  to  practice  what  is  not  common  now  to  many 
boys  on  shore—that  is,  an  outward  show  of  respect  for 


28 

superiors.  If  business  called  us  to  the  "  West  End  '* 
of  a  ship,  the  quarter-deck,  our  place  was  to  walk  on 
the  lee  side  of  that  deck  and  leave  the  weather  side  the 
moment  the  duty  was  done.  If  sent  for  any  article 
hy  an  officer,  it  was  our  business  to  find  it  Avithout 
further  recourse  to  him. 

Petted  boys  have  little  patience  for  hunting'  for 
thing's.  At  home  two  minutes  is  about  the  limit  of  time 
spent  in  looking-  for  a  mislaid  poker,  and  then  "Ma!" 
"  Pa !  "  or  "Aunt !  "  is  called  on  to  turn  to  and  do  this 
disag-reeable  work.  The  second  mate  once  ordered  me 
to  find  a  certain  iron  hook,  wherewith  to  draw  the 
pump  boxes,  and  when,  after  a  short  search,  I  returned 
and  asked  him  where  it  mig-ht  be  I  was  horrified  by 
the  expression  of  astonished  indig-nation  spreading- 
over  his  face  as  he  yelled :  "  Great  Scott,  he  expects 
me  to  help  him  find  it ! "  I  saw  the  point  and  all  it 
involved,  and  never  so  wounded  an  officer's  dig-nity 
ag-ain.  It  is  a  sailor's,  and  especiallj^  a  bo3^'s  business 
on  sliipboard,  to  find  whatever  he  is  ordered  to.  It 
must  be  produced — no  matter  whether  it's  in  the  ship 
or  not.  At  all  events  that's  the  sentiment  reg-arding- 
the  matter.  But  it  is  good  discipline  for  boys  over- 
nursed  at  home  and  onl}^  physically  weaned.  The 
"  cold,  cold  world  "  would  not,  in  some  cases,  be  so  cold 
to  the  newly-fledg-ed  3'outh  first  trying-  his  feeble 
wing-s  outside  the  famil3^  nest,  did  parents  judiciously 
establish  a  little  of  this  maritime  usage  at  home. 

We  soon  learned  on  the  Wizard  how  well  we  had 
\ived  at  home.  Our  sea  fare  of  hard  tack  and  salt 
junk  taught  us  how  to  appreciate  at  their  true  value 
the  broiled  streaks,  hot  cakes,  and  buttered  toast  of 
home   tables.     The   quart   of  very  common  molasses 


29 

served  out  to  us  weekly  soon  became  a  luxury,  and 
when  the  steward  occasionally  broug-ht  us  "Benav- 
lins"  (the  nautical  term  for  the  broken  fragments 
from  the  cabin  table),  we  regarded  it  as  very  luxuri- 
ous living',  though  a  month  previous  we  should  have 
deemed  such  food  fit  only  for  the  swill-tub. 

In  about  two  weeks  we  had  settled  down  into  the 
routine  of  life  at  sea.  Sailors  are  apt  to  term  theirs 
a  "dog-'s  life."  I  never  did.  It  was  a  peculiar  life, 
and  in  some  respects  an  unpleasant  one — like  many 
others  on  land.  But  it  was  not  a  "  dog-'s  life."  There 
was  plenty  to  eat,  and  we  relished  our  "  lobscouse," 
hard  tack,  salt  junk,  beans,  codfish,  potatoes  and  Sun- 
day's and  Thursday's  diilF.  The  hours  for  labor  were 
not  exhausting-.  It  was  "watch  and  watch,  four 
hours  off  and  four  hours  on."  Many  a  New  York  re- 
tail grocer's  clerk,  who  turns  to  at  5  in  the  morning 
and  never  leaves  off  imtil  11  at  night,  would  revel  on 
such  regulation  of  time  and  labor.  So  would  manj^  a 
sewing-girl.  We  had  plenty  of  time  for  sleep.  If 
called  up  at  4  every  alternate  morning,  and  obliged  to 
stand  watch  until  8  a.m.,  we  could  "turn  in"  at  that 
hour  after  breakfast  and  sleep  till  noon.  Apart  from 
the  alternate  watches  the  work  or  "jobs"  occupied 
about  six  hours  per  day.  True,  there  was  at  times 
some  heavy  work,  but  it  was  only  occasional.  Sailoi'- 
work  is  not  heavy  as  compared  with  the  incessant 
fagging,  wearing,  never-ending  character  of  some  oc- 
cupations on  shore.  Skill,  agilit}',  and  quickness  are 
in  greater  demand  than  mere  brute  strength. 

Lobscouse  is  a  preparation  of  hard  bread,  first 
soaked  and  then  stewed  with  shredded  salt  beef.  It 
looks  somewhat  like  rations  for  a  delicate  bear  when 


30 

served  out  by  the  panful.  But  it  is  very  good.  Salt 
beef  is  wonderfully  improved  by  streaks  of  fat  through 
it.  These  serve  the  foremast  hands  in  place  of  but- 
ter. I  know  of  no  better  relish  than  good  pilot  bread 
and  sliced  salt  junk,  with  plenty  of  clean  white  fat. 
On  shore  that  quart  of  boiling  hot  liquid,  sweetened 
with  molasses  and  called  tea,  would  have  been  pitched 
into  the  gutter.  At  sea,  after  an  afternoon's  work,  it 
was  good.  With  similar  content  and  resignation,  not 
to  say  happiness,  we  drank  in  the  morning  the  hot 
quart  of  black  fluid  similarly  sweetened  and  called 
coffee.  It  was  not  real  coffee.  I  don't  know  what  it 
was.  I  cared  not  to  know.  Of  course  w^e  grumbled 
at  it.  But  Ave  drank  it.  It  was  "  filling,''  and  Avas  far 
better  than  the  cold,  brackish  Avater,  impregnated 
thickly  with  iron  rust,  a  gallon  of  Avhich  Avas  serA^ed 
out  daily.  For  the  fresh  water  Avas  kept  below  in  an 
iron  tank,  and,  as  the  deck  leaked,  a  small  portion  of 
the  Atlantic  had  somehoAv  gained  admission  to  it  and 
slightly  salted  it.  It  resembled  chocolate  to  the  eye, 
but  not  to  the  palate. 


'61 


CHAPTER    lY. 

MUCH   WATER   AND   MUTINY. 

On  the  fourth  day  out  the  Wizard  was  found  to 
have  four  feet  of  water  in  her  hold.  The  sliip  was 
pumped  dry  in  about  four  hours,  wh(Mi  slie  proceeded 
to  fdl  up  aij;ain.  ^  The  Captain  seemed  a  man  of  many 
minds  for  the  next  two  or  tliree  days.  First  the  ship 
was  put  hack  for  New  York.  This  course  was  altered 
and  her  bows  pointed  for  Africa.  Then  the  foremast 
hands  became  worried,  and  going-  aft  one  morning-  in 

a  body,  asked   Captain   S what  he  meant  to  do 

and  where  he  meant  to  go,  because  they  had  shipped 
for  San  Francisco  and  they  did  not  intend  g-oing  any- 
Avhere  else.  The  Captain  answered  that  his  own  safety 
and  that  of  the  vessel  were  as  dear  to  him  as  their 
lives  were  to  them,  and  that  he  intended  doing-  the 
best  for  the  general  g-ood.  This  answer  was  not  very 
satisfactory  to  the  crew,  who  went  g-rumbling-  back 
to  their  quarters.  Ultimately  it  turned  out  that  we 
were  to  take  the  leak  with  us  to  San  Francisco.  At 
the  rate  the  water  was  running-  in  it  was  judg-ed  that 
the  bone,  muscle,  and  sinews  of  the  crew  could  manage 
to  keep  it  down.  So  we  pumped  all  the  way  round 
Cape  Horn.  We  pumped  during  our  respective 
watches  every  two  hours.  In  good  weather  and  on 
an  even  keel  it  took  half  an  hour  to  "suck  the  pumps." 
If  the  vessel  was  heeled  to  larboard  or  starboard,  it 
took  much  longer.     In  very  rough  weather  we  pumped 


32 

all  the  time  that  could  be  spared  from  other  duties. 
There  were  two  pumps  at  the  foot  of  tlie  mainmast 
worked  by  levers,  and  these  were  furnished  with  ^'  bell 
ropes "  to  pull  on.  Half  the  watch  worked  at  each 
lever,  and  these  were  located  exactly  where  on  stormy 
nights  the  wild  waves  were  in  the  habit  of  flinging- 
over  tlie  bulwarks  a  hogshead  or  two  of  Avater  to 
drench  us  and  wash  us  off  our  feet. 

The  Wizard  was  a  very  "  wet  ship."  She  loved  giv- 
ing us  moist  surprises.  Sometimes  on  a  fine  da^^  she 
would  g-racefuUy,  but  suddenly,  poke-  her  nose  under, 
and  come  up  and  out  of  the  Atlantic  or  Pacific  ocean 
with  fifteen  or  twenty  tons  of  pea-green  sea  water 
foaming  over  tlie  t'galUmt  forecastle,  cascading-  thence 
on  the  spar  deck  and  washing  everything  movable 
slam  bang  up  and  sometimes  into  the  cabin.  This 
took  place  once  on  a  washda^^  Sailors'  washday  is 
often  regulated  by  the  supply  of  water  caug-ht  from 
the  clouds.  On  this  particular  occasion  the  fore  deck 
was  full  of  old  salts  up  to  their  bared  elbows  in  suds, 
vigorously  discoursing  washtub  and  washboard.  Then 
the  flood  came,  and  in  a  moment  the  deck  was  filled 
with  a  great  surge  bearing  on  its  crest  all  these  old 
salts  strug-gling  among  their  tubs,  their  washboards, 
their  soap  and  i)artly-washed  garments.  The  cabin 
bulkhead  i)artly  stopped  some,  but  the  door  being 
open  others  were  borne  partly  inside,  and  their  woollen 
shirts  were  afterward  found  stranded  on  the  carpeted 
cabin  floor.  One  ^^^dufT  day ''we  had  gathered  about 
our  extra  repast  in  the  bo\^s'  house.  The  duff  and 
IS'ew  Orleans  molasses  had  just  commenced  to  disap- 
I)ear.  Then  a  shining,  greenish,  translucent  cataract 
filled  the  doorway  from  top  to  bottom.     It  struck  boys, 


33 

beef,  bread,  diitT,  and  dishes.  It  scattered  them.  It 
tumbled  tliem  in  various  lieaps.  It  was  a  brief  season 
of  terror,  spitting-,  and  sputtering-  salt  water,  and  a 
scrambling-  for  life,  as  we  thought.  It  washed  under 
bunks  and  in  remote  corners  dulf,  bread,  beef,  plates, 
knives,  forks,  cups,  spoons  and  molasses-bottles.  The 
dinner  was  lost.  Going-  on  deck  we  found  a  couple  of 
feet  of  water  swashing-  from  bulwark  to  bidwark  with 
every  roll,  bearing'  with  it,  heavy  blocks  and  everything- 
movable  which  had  been  loosened  by  the  shock,  to  the 
g-reat  i-isk  of  leg-s  and  bodies.  But  these  were  trifles. 
At  least  we  call  them  trifles  when  they  are  over.  I 
have  noticed,  however,  that  a  man  may  swear  as  hard 
at  a  jammed  fing-er  as  a  broken  leg-,  and  the  most  effi- 
cacious means  in  the  world  to  quickly  develop  a  furious 
temper  is  to  lose  one's  dinner  when  hung-ry,  get  wet 
throug:h,  then  abused  b3^  a  Dutch  mate  for  not  stirring" 
around  quicker,  and  finally  work  all  the  afternoon  set 
ting-  thingrs  to  rigrhts  on  an  empty  stomach,  robbed 
and  disappointed  of  its  dutt'.     This  is  no  trifle. 

Learning  the  ropes  isn't  all  a  boy's  first  lessons 
at  sea.  He  must  learn  also  to  wash  and  mend  his 
own  clothes.  At  least  he  must  try  to  learn  and 
go  through  the  forms.  I  never  could  wash  a  flannel 
shirt,  and  how  the  extraneous  matter  called  dirt, 
which  the  washing  process  is  intended  to  disperse,  is 
gotten  rid  of  b}^  soap  and  muscle  at  an  equal  average 
over  the  entire  surface  of  the  garment  is  for  me  to- 
day one  of  earth's  mysteries.  I  could  wash  a  shirt 
in  spots.  When  I  tried  to  convince  myself  that  I 
had  finished  it  I  could  still  see  where  I  had  washed 
clean  and  where  I  had  not.  There  is  a  certain  system 
in  the  proper  manipulation  of  a  garment  in  a  washtub 


34 

which  to  me  is  incomprehensible.  An  old  sailor  is 
usually  a  good  washer.  It's  part  of  his  trade.  Those 
on  the  Wizcu'd  w^ould  reprove  the  bo^^s  for  their  slip- 
shod work.  "  Such  a  slovenly  washed  shirt  as  that/* 
said  Conner,  an  old  man-of- Avar's  man,  "hung-  in  the 
rigging  is  a  disgrace  to  the  shiiD.'^  He  alluded  to  one 
of  mine.  The  failure  was  not  from  any  lack  of  labor 
put  on  it.  The  trouble  lay  in  that  I  didn't  know 
Avhere  to  put  the  labor  on.  It  was  easier  to  tie  a 
shirt  to  a  line,  fling  it  overboard  and  let  it  tow\  This 
will  wash  clothes — Avash  all  the  warp  out  of  them  in 
time.  The  practice  Avas  at  last  forbidden  the  bo3'S  on 
the  Wizcu^d,  It's  a  lazy  bo^^'s  Avash.  The  adage  "  It's 
ncA^er  too  late  to  mend "  is  not  applicable  on  ship- 
board. It  should  there  read  "  It's  never  too  early  to 
mend."  Of  course  a  boy  of  sixteen,  Avhose  mother  has 
ahvays  stitched  for  him,  Avill  alloAV  his  clothes  to  go 
until  they  fall  off  his  body  before  using  his  needle. 
As  I  did.  And  I  scAved  myself  up  only  to  rip  asunder 
immediately.  I  Avent  about  decks  a  thing  of  flaps, 
rips,  rags,  and  abortiA^e  patches,  until  they  called  me 
the  ship's  scarecroAv.  And  so  Avould  many  another 
spruce  young  man  under  similar  discipline.  It's  good 
once  in  one's  life  to  be  brought  thus  Ioav. 

It  was  particularly  disagreeable  at  midnight  as  Ave 
assembled  at  the  bell  ropes  to  giA^e  her  the  last 
"shake-up,"  and  more  asleep  than  aAvake  pulled  Avear- 
ily  Avith  monotonous  clank.  Sometimes  at  that  hour, 
Avhen  our  labors  Avere  half  through,  the  valves  Avould 
get  out  of  order.  It  Avas  then  necessary  to  call  the 
carpenter  and  haA^e  them  repaired.  This  Avould  keep 
us  on  deck  half  an  hour  or  more,  for  by  mutual  com- 
pact each  Avatch  Avas  obliged  to  "suck  its  OAvn  pumps." 


OO 


Such  delays  made  the  men  very  angry.  They  stopped 
singing-  at  their  work — always  a  bad  sig-n— and  be- 
came silent,  morose,  and  sullen.  For  the  first  six  weeks 
all  the  "  shanti  songs  '*'  known  on  the  sea  had  been 
sung.  Regularly  at  each  pumping  exercise  we  had 
"Santy  Anna,"  "Bully  in  the  Alley,"  "Miranda  Lee," 
"Storm  Along,  John,"  and  other  operatic  maritime 
gems,  some  of  which  might  have  a  place  in  our 
modern  operas  of  The  Pinafore  school.  There's  a 
good  deal  of  rough  melody  when  these  airs  are  rolled 
out  by  twenty  or  thirty  strong  lungs  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  a  windlass'  clank  and  the  wild,  shrill 
sweep  of  the  winds  in  the  rigging  above.  But  the 
men  would  no  longer  sing.  The  fact  was  reported  to 
the  Captain.  He  put  on  his  spectacles,  walked  out  on 
the  quarter-deck  and  gazed  at  them  mournfully  and 
reprovingly.  The  mates  tried  to  incite  them  to  re- 
newed melody.  But  the  shipping  articles  did  not  com- 
pel them  to  sing  unless  they  felt  like  it.  The  pumps 
clanked  g-loomily  without  any  enlivening  chorus.  The 
Captain  went  sadly  back  to  his  cabin  and  renewed  his 
novel. 

One  night  the  pumps  broke  down  five  minutes  be- 
fore 12  o'clock.  Our  watch  was  at  work  on  them. 
The  carpenter  was  called  as  usual,  and  after  the  usual 
bungling  and  fishing  in  the  well  for  the  broken  valves, 
they  were  put  in  order  again.  It  was  then  nearly  1 
A.M.  Meanwhile  all  the  able  seamen  in  our  w^atch  had 
at  eight  bells  walked  below.  The  watch  newly  come 
on  deck  refused  to  pump  the  ship  clear,  alleging  it 
was  the  business  of  the  others.  The  watch  below  were 
bidden  to  come  on  deck  and  perform  their  neglected 
duty.     They  refused.     This  was   mutiny.     The  four 


36 

mates  g-ot  their  pistols,  entered  the  forecastle  and 
stormed,  ordered,  and  threatened.  It  was  of  no  avail. 
The  fifteen  able  seamen  who  refused  constituted  the 
main  strength  and  effectiveness  of  that  watch.  They 
were  threatened  with  being*  put  in  irons.  They  pre- 
ferred irons  to  pumping  out  of  their  turn.  They  were 
put  in  irons,  fifteen  stout  men,  by  the  four  mates,  who 
then  returned  and  reported  proceedings  to  the  Cap- 
tain. The  men  remained  shackled  until  the  next  morn- 
ing. It  was  then  discovered  that  it  was  impossible 
to  Avork  the  ship  without  their  aid.  Of  course  they 
couldn't  handle  the  vessel  in  irons.  In  reality  double 
the  number  of  able  men  were  needed  in  both  watches. 
The  Wizard  rated  over  3,000  tons,  and  many  a  frigate 
of  her  size  would  have  been  deemed  poorly  off  with 
less  than  one  hundred  men  for  handling  the  ship  alone. 
We  rarely  secured  the  lower  sails  properly  in  heavy 
weather,  from  the  mere  lack  of  physical  strength  to 

handle  them.     So  Captain   S pored  sadl}^  at  his 

breakfast  through  his  gold-bowed  spectacles,  and 
when  the  meal  Avas  over  issued  orders  for  the  release 
of  the  fifteen  men  in  irons.  In  this  little  affair  the 
bo3\s  and  ordinary  seamen  belonging  to  the  mutinous 
watch  took  no  part.  The^^  were  strictl3^  neutral  and 
waited  to  see  which  side  would  win.  I  felt  rather  un- 
pleasant and  alarmed.  Though  not  a  full-fledged 
mutiny  and  a  conversion  of  a  peaceful  merchantman 
mto  a  pirate,  it  did  look  at  one  time  as  if  t'he  initiatory 
steps  to  such  end  were  being  taken. 

One  of  the  great  aims  of  existence  at  sea  is  that  of 
keeping-  the  decks  clean.  The  scrubbing-,  swishing,  and 
swashing  is  performed  by  each  watch  on  alternate 
mornings,  and  commences  at  daylight.     It  was  the 


37 

one  ordeal  which  I  reg-arded  with  horror  and  con- 
t  euipt.  You  are  called  up  at  four  in  the  morning',  when 
the  sleep  of  a  g-rowinir  3^outh  is  soundest.  The  mani- 
acal wretch  of  the  other  watch,  who  does  the  call- 
Hig-,  does  it  with  the  glee  and  screech  of  a  fiend.  He 
will  not  stop  his  "All  Ha-a-a-nds!"  until  he  hears 
some  responsive  echo  from  the  sleepers.  He  is  noisy 
i\nd  joyous  because  it  is  so  near  the  time  he  can  turn 
in.  And  these  four  hours  of  sleep  at  sea  are  such 
luxuries  as  may  rarelv  be  realized  on  shore.  But  the 
mate's  watch  is  calling  us,  screeching,  howling, 
thumping  on  the  forecastle  door,  and  making  himself 
extremely  pleasant.  The  old  sailors  being  called  grad- 
ually rise  to  sitting  postures  in  their  berths  with 
yawns,  oaths,  and  grumblings.  If  the  hideous  caller 
is  seen,  a  boot  or  other  missile  may  be  shied  in  that 
direction.  Otherwise  the  prejudice  and  disgust  for 
his  clamor  on  the  part  of  those  called  expresses  itself 
in  irritable  sarcasms  such  as,  "Oh,  why  don't  you 
make  a  little  more  noise?"  "Think  yourself  smart, 
don't  you?"  "Say,  don't  you  s'pose  we  can  hear?" 
To-morrow  morning  at  12  or  4  these  personalities  and 
conditions  of  mind  will  be  reversed.  The  awakened 
irritable  grumbler  will  be  the  joyous  caller,  and  the 
joyous  caller  of  this  early  morn  will  be  searching 
about  his  bunk  for  some  offensive  implement  to  hurl 
at  the  biped  who  thus  performs  the  matutinal  office 
of  the  early  village  cock. 

We  are  called  and  on  deck,  and  stumbling  about, 
maj'be  with  one  boot  half  on,  and  more  asleep  than 
awake  and  more  dead  than  alive.  We  ava  in  the 
warm,  enervating  latitude  of  the  tropics,  Avith  ever}' 
sinew  relaxed  from  the  steaming  heat.     Perhaps  there 

260687 


38 

is  a  lig-ht  wind  aft.  We  are  carrying"  stuclding--sails. 
Studding'-sails  are  beautiful  to  look  at  from  a  dis- 
tance. But  when  once  you  have  sailed  in  a  ship 
carrying-  them  from  the  royals  down  and  know  some- 
thing of  the  labor  of  rigging  them  out  all  on  one  side, 
fore,  main,  and  mizzen-masts,  and  then,  if  the  breeze 
alters  a  couple  of  points,  taking  the  starboard  sails  all 
down  and  rigging  out  the  larboard,  or  perhaps  on  both 
sides — and  this  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  when  there 
are  no  jobs  and  you've  been  exj^ecting  plent}^  of  leisure 
to  eat  your  duff  and  molasses;  or  if  you  have  exor 
helped  carry  those  heavy  yards  about  the  deck  when 
the  ship  was  rolling  violently  in  a  heavy  ground  swell, 
and  ever}^  time  she  brought  up,  sails,  blocks,  and 
everything  movable  was  bringing  up  also  with  a  series 
of  pistol-like  reports;  or  if  you  have  ever  laid  out  on 
a  ro^^al  3^ard  tr\ing  to  pass  a  heav^^  rope  through  the 
"jewel  block,"  at  the  extreme  end  thereof,  while  the 
mast  and  yard  Avere  oscillating  to  and  fro  with  you 
through  the  air  in  a  rapidly  recurring  series  of  gigan- 
tic arcs  caused  by  the  lazy  swell,  in  the  trough  of 
which  your  ship  is  rolling — and  at  the  end  of  each  roll 
you  find  yourself  holding  on  for  dear  life,  lest  at  the 
termination  of  each  oscillation  you  be  shot  like  an 
arrow  into  the  sea  from  your  insecure  perch — wh^^  in 
all  these  cases  the  beauty  and  picturesqueness  of  a  ship 
under  studding-sails  will  be  tempered  by  some  sober 
realities. 

It  is  5:30  or  G  o'clock.  The  morning  light  has  come. 
The  cry  of  "Turn  to!  "  is  heard.  That  is,  "turn  to" 
to  wash  down  decks,  an  operation  which  will  tax  the 
already  exhausted  resources  of  an  emi:)ty  stomach 
until   breakfnst  time  at  8  o'clock.     The   mates  liaA^e 


39 

their  fragrant  "  cabin  coffee ''  and  biscuit  served  them 
on  the  brass  capstan  aft;  we  can  smell  its  aroma,  but 
nothing-  warm  can  get  into  our  stomachs  for  over  two 
long  hours  of  work.  The  basic  idea  in  this  regular 
washing  down  decks  at  sea  seems  to  be  that  of  keep- 
ing men  bus\'  for  the  sake  of  keeping  them  busy.  The 
top  of  every  deck  plank  must  be  scrubbed  with  a  care 
and  scrutiny  befitting  the  labors  of  a  diamond  pol- 
isher on  his  gems,  while  the  under  side  may  be  dripping 
with  foulness,  as  it  sometimes  is.  I  had  the  post  of 
honor  in  scrubbing-  the  quarter-deck.  That  was  the 
drawing  of  water  in  a  canvas  bucket  from  the  mizzen 
chains  to  wash  over  that  deck.  The  remaining  five 
boys  would  pusli  wearily  about  with  their  brooms, 
hand-brushes,  squabs,  and  squilgees,  superintended  by 
our  extraordinary  fourth  mate  (always  to  me  an  ob- 
ject of  interest,  froxn  the  fact  of  the  secret  carefully 
hoarded  in  \\\\  breast  that  I  had  pulled  him  into  the 
New  York  dock),  who,  with  a  microscopic  oyQ  in- 
spected each  crack  and  seam  after  the  boys'  labors,  in 
search  of  atomic  particles  of  dirt,  and  called  them  back 
with  all  the  dignity  of  command,  and  a  small  amount 
of  commanding  personality  behind  it,  whenever  he 
deemed  he  had  discovered  any.  When  this  labor  was 
finished  I  was  generally  so  exhausted  as  to  hav^e  no 
appetite  for  breakfast.  But  a  sailor's  stomach  is  not 
presumed  to  be  at  all  sensitive  under  any  conditions. 
And  above  all  a  "  boy  " —  a  boy  belonging  to  a  squad 
of  boys  who  about  once  a  day  were  encouraged  and 
enthused  to  exertion  and  maritime  ambition  by  the 
assurance  conveyed  them  by  one  of  the  mates  that 
they  weren't  "worth  tlieir  salt" — what  business  had  a 
l)oy's  stomach  to  put  on  airs  at  sea?    Most  landsmen 


40 

if  called  up  at  4  o'clock  on  a  niug-gy  morning  and 
worked  like  mules  for  a  couple  of  hours  on  a  digestive 
vacuum,  would  probably  at  the  breakfast  hour  feel 
more  the  need  of  food  than  the  appetite  to  partake  of 
it. 

Though  I  followed  the  sea  nearly  two  3^ears,  I  am 
no  sailor.  The  net  result  of  my  maritime  experience 
is  a  capacity  for  tying'  a  bow-line  or  a  square  knot  and 
a  positive  knowledge  and  conviction  concerning  which 
end  of  the  ship  goes  first.  I  also  know  enough  not 
throw  hot  ashes  to  windward. 

But  on  a  yard  I  could  never  do  much  else  but  hold 
on.  The  foolhardy  men  about  me  would  lie  out  flat  on 
their  stomachs  amid  the  darkness  and  storm,  and  ex- 
pose themselves  to  the  risk  of  pitching  headlong  into 
the  sea  in  the  most  reckless  manner  while  tr3nng  to 
"spill  the  wind  "out  of  a  t'gallant  sail.  But  I  never 
emulated  them.  I  never  lived  up  to  the  maritime 
maxim  of  "one  hand  for  yourself  and  the  other  for 
the  owners."  I  kept  both  hands  for  myself,  and  that 
kept  me  from  going  overboard.  What  would  the 
owners  have  cared  had  I  gone  overboard?  Nothing. 
Such  an  occurrence  twenty-five  odd  years  ago  would, 
weeks  afterward,  have  been  reported  in  the  marine 
ji(;ws  this  way :  "  Common  sailor,  ver^-  common  sailor, 
fell  from  t/gallant  3^ard  off  Cape  Horn  and  lost."  The 
owner  would  have  secretly  rejoiced,  as  he  bought  his 
Christmas  toys  for  his  children,  that  the  t'gallant 
yard  had  not  gone  with  the  sailor.  No;  on  a  yard  in 
a  storm  I  believed  and  lived  up  to  the  maxim:  "  Hold 
fast  to  that  which  is  good."  The  yard  was  good.  Yet 
I  was  ambitious  when  a  boy  before  the  mast  on  the 
clipper  which  brought  me  to  California.     I  was  quick 


41 

to  get  into  the  ri«r.2:ing-  when  there  was  an^' thing  to 
do  aloft.  But  once  in  the  rig-ging- 1  was  of  httle  utihty. 
The  first  time  I  went  up  at  night  to  loose  one  of  the 
royals,  I  thought  I  should  never  stop  climbing.  The 
deck  soon  vanished  in  the  darkness  of  a  very  black 
tropical  night,  the  mastheads  were  likewise  lost  in  a 
Cimmerian  obscurity — whatever  that  is.  At  last  I 
found  the  yard.  I  wasn't  quite  sure  whether  it  was 
the  right  one  or  not.  I  didn't  knoAV  exactly  what  to 
do.  I  knew  I  had  to  untie  something  somewhere.  But 
where  ?  Meantime  the  savage  Scotch  second  mate  was 
bellowing,  as  it  then  seemed,  a  mile  below  me.  I  knew 
the  bellow  was  for  me.  I  had  to  do  something  and  I 
commenced  doing.  I  did  know,  or  rather  guessed, 
enough  to  cast  oil  the  lee  and  weather  gaskets,  or  lines 
which  bind  the  sail  when  furled  to  the  yard,  and  then 
I  made  them  up  into  a  most  slovenly  knot.  But  the 
bunt-gasket  (the  line  binding  the  middle  and  most 
bulky  portion  of  the  sail),  bothered  me.  I  couldn't 
untie  it.  I  picked  away  at  it  desperately,  tore  my 
nails  and  skinning  ray  knuckles.  The  bellowing  from 
below  continued  as  fiercely  as  ever,  which,  though  not 
intelligible  as  to  words,  was  certainly  exhorting  me, 
and  me  only,  to  vigilance.  Then  the  watch  got  tired 
waiting  for  me.  Thinking  the  sail  loosed,  they  began 
hoisting.  They  hoisted  the  yard  to  its  proper  place 
and  me  with  it.  I  clung  on  and  went  up  higher. 
That,  by  the  way,  always  comes  of  holding  fast  to 
that  which  is  good.  Then  a  man's  head  came  bobbing 
up  out  of  the  darkness.  It  was  that  of  a  good-natured 
Nantucket  boy,  whose  name  of  course  was  Coffin.  Ha 
asked  me  the  trouble.  I  went  into  a  lengthy  explana- 
tion   about    the     unmananeable    knot.      "Oh the 


42 

knot!^'  said  he.  "Cut  it!'^  and  he  cut  it.  I  would 
never  have  cut  it.  In  m^^  then  and  even  present  nau- 
tical ig-norance  I  should  have  expected  the  mast  or 
yard  to  have  fallen  from  cutting-  anything-  aloft. 
Only  a  few  days  previous  I  had  seen  the  Captain  on 
the  quarter-deck  jumping  up  and  down  in  his  tracks 
with  rage  because  a  common  seamen  liad,  by  mistake, 
cut  a  mizzen  brace,  and  the  second  mate,  as  usual,  had 
jumped  up  and  down  on  the  seaman  when  he  reached 
the  deck.  I  feared  to  set  a  similar  jumping  process 
in  operation.  Coming  on  deck  after  my  length}^  and 
blundering  sojourn  loosing  a  royal,  I  expected  to  be 
mauled  to  a  pulp  for  1113^  stupidity.  But  both  watch 
and  bellowing  mate  had  g-one  below  and  I  heard  no 
more  of  it. 


43 


CHAPTER  V. 

SAN   FRANCISCO   IN   185G. 

The  Wizard  sailed  through  a  g-rcat  bank  of  fog  one 
August  morning  and  all  at  once  the  headlands  of  the 
Golden  Gate  came  in  sight.  It  was  the  first  land  we 
had  seen  for  four  months.  We  sailed  into  the  harbor, 
anchored,  and  the  San  Francisco  of  1856  lay  before  us. 

The  ship  was  tied  up  to  the  wharf.  All  but  the  offi- 
cers and  "boys"  left  her.  She  seemed  deserted, 
almost  dead.  We  missed  the  ocean  life  of  the  set 
sails,  the  ship  bowing  to  the  waves  and  all  the  stir  of 
tlie  elements  in  the  open  ocean. 

The  captain  called  me  one  day  into  the  cabin,  paid 
me  my  scanty  wages  and  told  me  he  did  not  think  I 
"  was  cut  out  for  a  sailor,"  I  was  not  handy  enough 
about  decks. 

Considering  that  for  two  months  I  had  been  crijv 
pled  by  a  felon  on  the  middle  finger  of  my  right  hand, 
which  on  healing  had  left  that  finger  curved  inward, 
with  no  power  to  straighten  it,  I  thought  the  charg-e 
of  awkwardness  somewhat  unjust. 

However,  I  accepted  the  Captain's  opinion  regard- 
ing my  maritime  capacities,  as  well  as  the  hint  that  I 
was  a  superfluity  on  board. 

I  left  the  Wizard — left  her  for  sixteen  3^ears  of 
vai-ied  life  in  California. 


44 

I  had  no  plans,  nor  aims,  nor  purpose,  save  to  exist 
from  day  to  day  and  take  what  the  day  might  g-ive 
me. 

Let  me  say  here  never  accept  anj^  person's  opinion  of 
your  quahfications  or  capacities  for  any  caUing-.  If 
you  feel  that  3'ou  are  "  cut  out  "  for  any  calling  or  tliat 
you  desire  to  follow  it,  abide  by  that  feeling,  and  trust 
to  it.     It  will  carr^^  you  through  in  time. 

I  believe  that  thousands  on  thousands  of  lives  have 
been  blasted  and  crippled  through  the  discourage- 
ment thrown  on  them  by  relatiou,  friend,  parent,  or 
employer's  saying  continually  (or  if  not  saying  it 
verbally,  thinking  it)  ''You  are  a  dunce.  You  are 
stupid.  You  can't  do  this  or  that.  It's  ridiculous  for 
3^ou  to  think  of  becoming  this  or  that." 

The  boy  or  girl  goes  off  with  this  thought  thrown 
on  them  by  others.  It  remains  with  them,  becomes  a 
part  of  them  and  chokes  off  aspiration  and  effort. 

Years  afterward,  I  determined  to  find  out  for  m^^- 
self  whether  I  was  "cut  out  for  a  sailor"  or  not.  As 
a  result  I  made  myself  master  of  a  small  craft  in 
all  winds  and  weathers  and  proved  to  m^^self  that  if 
occasion  required,  I  could  manage  a  bigger  one. 

San  Francisco  seemed  to  me  then  mostly  fog  in  the 
morning,  dust  and  wind  in  the  afternoon,  and  Vigilance 
Committee  the  remainder  of  the  time. 

San  Francisco  was  then  in  the  throes  of  the  great 
"  Vigilant eeism  "  of  185G.  Companies  of  armed  men 
were  drilling  in  the  streets  at  night.  In  the  city's 
commercial  centre  stood  "Fort  Gunnybags" — the 
strong  hold  of  the  Vigilantes — made,  as  its  name  im- 
plied, of  sand-filled  gunn^^-  sacks.  Carronades  pro- 
truded from  its  port  holes,  sentinels  paced  the  ram- 


45 

parts.  There  was  a  constant  surging  of  men  in  and 
onb  of  the  building  behind  the  fort, — tlie  headquarters 
and  barracks  of  the  Vigilantes.  From  its  windows  a 
few  days  before  our  arrival  they  had  hung  Casey 
for  the  killing  of  James  King — one  of  the  editors 
of  the  Bulletin.  I  saw  two  others  hung  there  on 
tlie  sixth  of  August.  Vigilanteeism  was  then  the 
business  and  talk  of  the  town.  The  jail  had  just  been 
captured  from  the  "Law  and  Order"  men,  w ho  w^ere 
not  "  orderly  "  at  all,  but  w  ho  had  captured  the  citj^'s 
entire  governmental  and  legal  machinery  and  ran  it 
to  suit  their  own  purposes. 

The  local  Munchausens  of  that  era  were  busy;  one 
day  the  U.  S.  ship  of  war,  St.  Martfs,  was  to  open  fire 
on  Fort  Gunnybags;  the  next,  Governor  Johnson, 
backed  by  twenty  thousand  stahvart  men,  w^as  to  fall 
upon  the  city  and  crush  out  the  insurrection. 

The  up-country  counties  were  arming  or  thought 
of  arming  to  put  down  this  "rebellion."  The  "Re- 
bellion" was  conducted  b^^  the  respectability  and 
solidity  of  San  Francisco,  which  had  for  a  few  years 
been  so  busily  engaged  in  money  making  as  to  allow 
their  city  government  to  drift  into  rather  irresponsible 
hands;  man^^  of  the  streets  were  unbridged,  many  not 
lighted  at  night.  Cause — lack  of  money  to  bridge  and 
liglit.  The  money  in  the  hands  of  the  city  officials 
had  gone  more  for  private  pleasure  than  public  good. 

I  speak  of  the  streets  being  unbridged  because  at 
that  time  a  large  portion  of  the  streets  w^ere  virtually 
bridges.  One-fourth  of  the  cit^^  at  least,  w^as  built 
over  the  w^ater.  You  could  row^  a  boat  far  under  the 
town,  and  for  miles  in  some  directions.  This  am- 
phibious part  of  the  city  "  bilged  "  like  a  ship's  hold. 


4G 

and  white  paint  put  on  one  day  Avoiild  be  lead  colored 
the  next,  from  the  action  on  it  of  the  g-ases  let  loose 
from  the  ooze  at  low  tide. 

There  Avere  frequent  holes  in  these  bridges  into 
which  men  frequently  tumbled,  and  occasional!}"  a  team 
and  wag-on.  They  Avere  large  enough  for  either,  and 
their  only  use  AA^as  to  shoAv  Avhat  the  city  officials  had 
not  done  Avith  the  city^s  money. 

Then  Commercial  street  betAA^een  LeidesdorfT  and 
Batter}^  Avas  full  of  Cheap  John  auction  stores,  Avith  all 
their  clamor  and  attendant  croAvds  at  night.  Then 
the  old  Railroad  Restaurant  Avas  in  its  priaie,  and  the 
St.  Nichokis,  on  Sansome,  Avas  the  crack  hotel.  Then, 
one  saAv  sand-hills  at  the  further  end  of  Montgomery 
street.  To  go  to  Long  Bridge  Avas  a  Avear^^,  body-ex- 
hausting tramp.  The  Mission  Avas  reached  by  omni- 
bus. Rows  of  old  hulks  Avere  moored  off  Market  street 
Avharf,  maritime  relics  of  "  ^49."'  That  Avas  "  Rotten 
RoAv.^^  One  by  one  the}^  fell  A^ctims  to  Hare.  Hare 
purchased  them,  set  Chinamen  to  picking  their  bones, 
broke  them  up,  put  the  shattered  timbers  in  one  pile, 
the  iron  bolts  in  another,  the  copper  in  another,  the 
cordage  in  another,  and  so  in  a  short  all  time  that  re- 
mained of  these  bluff-boAved,  old-fashioned  ships  and 
brigs,  that  had  so  often  doubled  the  stormy  corner  of 
Cape  Horn  or  smoked  their  try-pots  in  the  Arctic 
ocean  Avas  so  maA^  ghastly  heaps  of  marine  debris. 

I  had  seen  the  Niantic,  noAv  entombed  just  beloAv 
ClaA"  street,  leave  my  natiA^e  seaport,  bound  for 
the  South  Pacific  to  cruise  for  whale,  years  ere  the 
bars  and  gulches  of  California  AA^ere  turned  up  by 
pick  and  shovel.  The  Cadmus,  the  A^essel  Avhich 
brought  Lafayette  OA^er  in  18:?4,  Avas  another  of  our 


"blubber  hunters,"  and  afterward  made  her  last  voy- 
ag-e  with  the  rest  to  San  Francisco. 

Manners  and  customs  still  retained  much  of  the  old 
"'49"  flavor.  Women  were  still  scarce.  Every  river 
boat  brought  a  shoal  of  miners  in  gray  shirts  from 
"  up  country."  "  Steamer  Day,"  twice  a  month,  was  an 
event.  A  g-reat  crowd  assembled  on  the  wharf  to  wit- 
ness the  departure  of  those  "going-  East"  and  a  Uvely 
orang:e  bombardment  from  wharf  to  boat  and  vice 
versa  was  an  inevitable  feature  of  these  occasions. 

The  Plaza  was  a  bare,  barren,  unfenced  spot.  They 
fired  salutes  there  on  Independence  Day,  and  occasion- 
ally Chief  Burke  exhibited  on  its  area  g'ang-s  of  sneak 
thieves,  tied  two  and  two  by  their  wrists  to  a  rope- 
like  a  string-  of  onions. 

There  was  a  long-  low  g-arrt-t  in  my  Commercial 
street  lodg-ing^s.  It  was  filled  with  dust-covered  sea- 
chests,  trunks,  valises,  boxes,  packages,  and  bundles, 
many  of  which  had  been  there  unclaimed  for  years 
and  whose  owners  were  quite  forgotten.  They  were 
the  belong:ing"s  of  lost  and  strayed  Long-  Islanders, 
ex-whaling-  captains,  mates  and  others.  For  the 
"Market"  was  tlie  chief  rendezvous.  Every  Long- 
Islander  coming-  from  the  "  States  "  made  first  for  the 
"Market."  Storage  then  was  very  expensive.  It 
would  soon  "  eat  a  trunk's  head  off."  So  on  the  score 
of  old  acquaintance  all  this  baggage  accumulated  in 
the  Market  loft  and  the  owners  wandered  off  to  the 
mines,  to  Oregon,  to  Arizona,  to  Nevada— to  all  parts 
of  the  great  territory  lying  east,  north  and  south, 
both  in  and  out  of  Cahfornia,  and  many  never  came 
back  and  some  were  never  heard  of  more.  This  bag- 
gage had  been  accumulating  for  years. 


48 

I  used  occasionally  to  g-o  and  wander  about  that 
garret  alone.  It  was  like  gToping-  around  your  family 
vault.  The  shades  of  the  forg-otten  dead  came  there 
in  the  evening*  twilight  and  sat  each  one  on  his  chest, 
his  trunk,  his  valise,  his  roll  of  blankets.  In  those 
dusty  packagTs  were  some  of  the  closest  ties,  binding- 
them  to  earth,  Bibles,  mother's  g^ifts,  tiny  baby  shoes, 
bits  of  blue  ribbon,  which  years  b^^-g-one  fluttered  in 
the  tresses  of  some  Long'  Island  g-irl. 

It  was  a  sad,  yet  not  a  g-loom^^  place.  I  could  feel 
that  the  presence  of  one,  whose  soul  in  sad  memory 
met  theirs,  one  who  then  and  there  recalled  familiar 
scenes,  events  and  faces,  one  who  ag-ain  in  memory 
lived  over  their  busy  preparations  for  departure,  their 
last  adieux  and  their  brig-ht  anticipations  of  fortune, 
I  could  feel  that  even  my  presence  in  that  lone,  seldom- 
visited  g-arret,  was  for  them  a  solace,  a  comfort. 
Imag-ination?  Yes,  if  you  Avill.  Even  imag-ination, 
dreamy,  unprofitable  imag-ination,  may  be  a  tang-ible 
and  valuable  something-  to  those  who  dwell  in  a  world 
of  thoug-ht. 

One  nig-ht — or,  rather,  one  morning- — I  came  home 
very  late — or,  rather,  very  early.  The  doors  of  the 
Long  Island  House  were  locked.  I  wanted  rest.  One 
of  the  window-panes  in  front,  and  a  larg-e  window-pane 
at  that,  was  broken  out.  All  the  belated  Long-  Island- 
ers stopping-  at  the  place,  when  locked  out  at  nig-ht, 
used  to  craAvl  throug-h  that  window-pane.  So,  I 
crawled  through  it.  Now,  the  sentinel  on  the  ram- 
parts of  Fort  Gunm'bags,  having  nothing  better  to 
do,  had  been  watching  me,  and  putting  me  up  as  a 
suspicious  midnight  loiterer.  And  so,  as  he  looked, 
he  saw  me  by  degrees  lose  m^^  physical  identity,  and 


49 

vanish  into  the  front  of  that  building-;  first,  head,  then 
shoulders,  then  chest,  then  diaphragm,  then  leg's,  until 
nau<^ht  but  a  pair  of  boot-soles  Avere  for  a  moment 
upturned  to  his  g'aze,  and  they  vanished,  and  darkness 
reigned  supreme.  The  sentinel  deemed  that  the  time 
for  action  had  come.  I  had  just  got  into  bed,  congrat- 
ulating myself  on  having  thus  entered  that  house 
without  disturbing  the  inmates,  when  there  came  loud 
and  peremptory  rappings  at  the  lower  door.  Luther 
and  John,  the  proprietors,  put  their  heads  out  of  the 
chamber  windows.  There  was  a  squad  of  armed  Vigi- 
lantes on  the  sidewalk  below;  and,  cried  out  one  of 
them,  "  Tliere's  a  man  just  entered  your  house!  "  Now 
I  heard  this, and  said  to  myself,  "  Thou  art  the  man!  " 
but  it  was  so  annoying  to  have  to  announce  myself 
as  the  cause  of  all  this  disturbance,  that  I  concluded 
to  wait  and  see  how  things  would  turn  out.  John  and 
Luther  jumped  from  their  beds,  lit  each  a  candle  and 
seized  each  a  pistol;  down-stairs  they  went  and  let 
the  Vigilantes  in.  All  the  Long  Island  captains, 
mates,  coopers,  cooks,  and  stewards  then  resident  in 
the  house  also  turned  out,  lit  each  his  candle,  seized 
each  a  pistol  or  a  butcher-knife,  of  which  there  were 
l)lenty  on  the  meat-blocks  below.  John  came  rushing 
into  my  room  where  I  lay,  pretending  to  be  asleep. 
He  shook  me  and  exclaimed, "  Get  up!  get  up!  there's 
a  robber  in  the  house  secreted  somewhere ! "  Then  I 
arose,  lit  a  candle,  seized  a  butcher-knife,  and  so  all 
the  Vigilantes  with  muskets,  and  all  the  Long  Island 
butchers,  captains,  mates,  cooks,  coopers,  and  stewards 
went  poking  around,  without  any  trousers  on,  and 
thrusting  their  candles  and  knives  and  pistols  into 
dark  corners,  and  under  beds  and  behind  beef  barrels, 


50 

after  the  robber.  So  did  I;  for  the  disturbance  had 
now  assumed  such  immense  iDroportions  that  I  would 
not  have  revealed  myself  for  a  hundred  dollars.  I 
never  hunted  for  m^^self  so  long-  before,  and  I  did 
wish  the^^  would  give  up  the  search.  I  saw  no  use  in 
it;  and  besides,  the  night  air  felt  raw  and  chill  in  our 
slim  attire.     They  kept  it  up  for  two  hours. 

Fort  Gunnybags  was  on  Sacramento  Street;  I  slept 
directly  opposite  under  the  deserted  baggage  referred 
to.  The  block  between  us  and  the  fort  was  vacant. 
About  every  fourth  night  a  report  would  be  circulated 
through  that  house  that  an  attack  on  Fort  Gunnybags 
would  be  made  by  the  Law  and  Order  men.  Now, 
the  guns  of  Fort  Gunn^'bags  bore  directly  on  us,  and 
as  they  Avere  loaded  with  hard  iron  balls,  and  as  these 
balls,  notwithstanding'  whatever  human  Law  and 
Order  impediments  the^^  might  meet  with  while  cross- 
ing the  vacant  block  in  front,  were  ultimately  certain 
to  smash  into  our  house,  as  well  as  into  whatever  stray 
Long  Island  captains,  mat(»s,  boat-steerers,  cooks,  and 
coopers  mig-ht  be  hing  in  then^  path,  these  reports  re- 
sulted in  great  uneasiness  to  us,  and  both  watches  used 
frequently  to  remain  up  all  night,  playing  seven-up  and 
drinking  i^um  and  gum  in  Jo.  Holland's  saloon  below. 

I  became  tired  at  last  of  assisting"  in  this  hunt  for  my- 
self. I  g-ave  mj^self  up.  I  said, "  I  am  the  man,  T  am  the 
bogus  burglar,  I  did  it."  Then  the  crowd  put  up  their 
knives  and  pistols,  blew  out  their  candles,  drew  their 
tongues  and  fired  reproaches  at  me.  I  felt  that  I  de- 
served them ;  I  replied  to  none  of  their  taunts,conducted 
m^^self  like  a  Christian,  and  went  to  bed  weighted 
down  with  their  reproof  and  invective.  The  sentinel 
went  back  to  his  post  and  possibly  slept.     So  did  I. 


51 


CHAPTER   VI. 

AS   A   SEA   COOK. 

I  DRIFTED  around  San  Francisco  for  several  months 
and  finally  shipped  as  cook  and  steward  of  the  schooner 
Henry,  bound  from  San  Francisco  for  a  whaling-,  seal- 
ins",  abalone  curing-,  and  general  "  pick  up "  voyage 
along-  the  Lower  Californian  coast.  My  acceptance  as 
cook  was  based  on  the  production  of  an  Irish  stew 
vvhicli  I  cooked  for  the  captain  and  mate  while  the 
Henry  was  ''hove  down"  on  the  beach  at  North  point 
and  undergoing  the  process  of  cleaning  her  bottom  of 
barnacles.  I  can't  recollect  at  this  lapse  of  time  where 
I  learned  to  cook  an  Irish  stew.  I  will  add  that  it  was 
all  I  could  cook — positively  all,  and  with  this  astound- 
ing- capital  of  culinary  ignorance  I  ventured  down  upon 
the  great  deep  to  do  the  maritime  housework  for  twenty 
men. 

When  we  were  fairly  afloat  and  the  Farall ones  were 
out  of  sight  m^^  fearful  mcapacity  for  the  duties  of  the 
position  became  apparent.  Besides,  I  was  dreadfully 
seasick,  and  so  remained  for  two  weeks.  Yet  I  cooked. 
It  Avas  purgatory,  not  only  for  myself  but  all  hands. 
There  was  a  general  howl  of  execration  forw^ard  and 
aft  at  my  bread,  my  lobscouse,  my  tea,  my  coffee,  my 
beef,  my  beans,  my  cake,  my  pies.  Why  the  captain 
continued  me  in  the  position,  why  they  didn't  throw 
me  overboard,  why  I  was  not  beaten  to  a  jelly  for  my 


52 

continued  culinary  failures,  is  for  me  to  this  day  one 
of  the  gTeat  m^^steries  of  my  existence.  We  were 
away  nearly  ten  months.  I  was  three  months  learn- 
ing- my  trade.  The  sufferings  of  the  crew  during  those 
three  months  were  fearful.  They  had  to  eat  my  fail- 
ures or  starve.  Several  times  it  was  intimated  to  me 
by  the  under  officers  that  I  had  better  resign  and  go 
"  for'ard  "  as  one  of  the  crew.  I  would  not.  I  per- 
severed at  the  expense  of  many  a  pound  of  good  flour. 
I  conquered  and  returned  a  second-class  sea  cook. 

The  Henry  was  a  small  vessel — the  deck  was  a 
clutter  of  Avhaling  gear.  Where  m^^  galley  or  sea- 
kitchen  should  have  been,  stood  tlie  tiy-works  for  boil- 
ing blubber.  They  shoved  me  around  an^^where.  Some- 
times I  was  moved  to  the  starboard  side,  sometimes 
to  the  larboard,  sometimes  when  cutting  in  a  whale 
way  astern.  I  expected  eventually  to  be  hoisted  into 
one  of  the  tops  and  cook  aloft.  An^^  well  regulated 
galley  is  placed  amidships,  where  there  is  the  least 
motion.  This  is  an  important  consideration  for  a  sea 
cook.  At  best  he  is  often  obliged  to  make  his  soup 
like  an  acrobat,  half  on  his  head  and  half  on  his  heels 
and  with  the  roof  of  his  unstead^^  kitchen  trying  to 
become  the  floor.  My  stove  was  not  a  marine  stove. 
It  had  no  rail  around  the  edges  to  guard  the  pots  and 
kettles  from  falling  off  during  extra  lurches.  The 
Henry  was  a  most  uneasy  craft,  and  always  getting 
up  extra  lurclies  or  else  trying  to  stand  on  her  head 
or  stern.  Therefore,  as  she  flew  up  high  astern  Avlien 
I  was  located  in  that  quarter,  she  has  in  more  than 
one  instance  flung  me  bodily,  man  unguarded  moment, 
out  of  that  galley  door  and  over  that  quarter-deck 
while  a  host  of  kettles,  covers,  and  other  culinary  uten- 


63 

sils,  rushed  with  clang'  and  clatter  out  after  me  and 
with  me  as  their  commander  at  their  head.  We  all 
eventually  terminated  in  the  scuppers.  I  will  not,  as 
usual,  say  "lee  scuppers."  Any  scupper  was  a  lee 
scupper  on  that  infernal  vessel.  I  endeavored  to  rem- 
edy the  lack  of  a  rail  about  this  stove  63^  a  system  of 
wires  at  jaching"  both  pots  and  lids  to  the  galley  ceil- 
ing-. I  "g-uyed  "  my  chief  culinary  utensils.  Still  dur- 
ing' furious  oscillations  of  the  boat  the  pots  would  roll 
otf  their  holes,  and  thoug-h  prevented  from  falling', 
some  of  them  as  suspended  by  these  wires  would  swing' 
like  so  many  pendulums,  around  and  to  and  fro  over 
the  area  of  that  stove. 

That  was  the  busiest  y?ar  of  my  life.  I  was  the  first 
one  up  in  the  morning:,  and  the  last  save  the  watch  to 
turn  in  at  nig'ht.  In  this  dry-g-oods  box  of  a  kitchen 
I  had  daily  to  prepare  a  breakfast  for  seven  men  in 
the  cabin,  and  another  for  eleven  in  the  forecastle;  a 
dinner  for  the  cabin  and  another  for  the  forecastle; 
likewise  supper  for  the  same.  It  was  m^^  business  to 
set  the  aristocratic  cabin  table,  clear  it  off  and  wash 
the  dislies  three  times  daily.  I  had  to  serve  out  the 
tea  and  coffee  to  the  eleven  men  forward.  The  cabin 
expected  hot  biscuit  for  breakfast,  and  frequentlj^  pie 
and  pudding  for  dinner.  Above  all  men  must  the  sea 
cook  not  only  have  a  place  for  everything*  and  every- 
thing' in  its  place,  but  he  must  have  everything-  chocked 
and  wedged  in  its  place.  You  must  wash  up  your  tea 
thing's,  sometimes  holding"  on  to  the  deck  with  your 
toes,  and  the  washtub  with  one  hand,  and  wedging' 
each  plate,  so  soon  as  wiped,  intro  a  corner,  so  that  it 
slide  not  away  and  smash.  And  even  then  the  entire 
dish-washing  apparatus,  yourself  included,  slides  gen- 


64 

tly  across  the  deck  to  leeward.  You  can't  leave  a 
fork,  or  a  stove-cover,  or  lid-lifter  lyiiii;'  about  indifter- 
entl}^  but  what  it  slides  and  sneaks  away  with  the 
roll  of  the  vessel  to  some  secret  crevice,  and  is  long- 
lost.  When  your  best  dinner  is  cooked  in  rough 
weather,  it  is  a  time  of  trial,  terror,  and  tribulation  to 
bestow  it  safely  on  the  cabin  table.  You  must  harbor 
3^our  kindling"  and  matches  as  sacredl^^  as  the  ancients 
kept  their  household  gods,  for  if  not,  on  stormy  morn- 
ings, with  the  drift  flying  over  the  deck  and  ever}' thing 
wet  and  clammy  with  the  Avater-surcharged  air  of  the 
sea,  your  breakfast  will  be  hours  late  through  inabil- 
ity to  kindle  a  fire,  whereat  the  cook  catches  it  from 
that  potentate  of  the  sea,  "  the  old  man,"  and  all  the 
mates  raise  their  voices  and  cry  with  empty  stom- 
achs, "Let  him  be  accursed.'' 

One  great  trial  with  me  lay  in  the  difficulty  of  dis- 
tinguishing fresh  water  from  salt — I  mean  by  the  eye. 
We  sea  cooks  use  salt  water  to  boil  beef  and  potatoes 
in;  or  rather  to  boil  beef  and  pork  and  steam  the 
potatoes.  So  I  usually  had  a  pail  of  salt  water  and 
one  of  fresh  standing-  b^^  the  g'alle}^  door.  Sometimes 
these  got  mixed  up.  I  alwa^^s  found  this  out  after 
making  salt-water  coffee,  but  then  it  was  too  late. 
They  were  particular,  especially  in  the  cabin,  and  did 
not  like  salt-water  coffee.  On  any  strictly  disciplined 
vessel  the  cook  for  such  an  offence  would  have  been 
compelled  to  drink  a  quart  or  so  of  his  own  coffee,  but 
some  merciful  cherub  aloft  alwaA^s  interfered  and  got 
me  out  of  bad  scrapes.  Another  annoyance  was  the 
loss  of  spoons  and  forks  thrown  accidentally  overboard 
as  I  flung  away  my  soup  and  grease-clouded  dish- 
water.  It  was  indeed  bitter  when,  as  occupied  in  these 


55 

daily  washings  I  allowed  my  mind  to  drift  to  other  and 
brig-liter  scenes,  to  see  the  g'litter  of  a  spoon  or  fork  in 
the  air  or  sinking-  in  the  deep  blue  sea,  and  then  to  re- 
flect that  already  there  were  not  enough  spoons  to  g-o 
around,  or  forks  either.  Our  storeroom  was  the  cabin. 
Among-  other  articles  there  was  a  keg-  of  molasses. 
One  evening-  after  draining-  a  quantity  I  neg-lected  to 
close  the  faucet  tightly.  Molasses  therefore  oozed  over 
the  cabin  floor  all  night.  The  cabin  was  a  freshet  of 
molasses.  Very  early  in  the  morning-  the  captain, 
getting-  out  of  his  bunk,  jumped  both  stockinged  feet 
into  the  saccharine  deluge.  Some  men  will  swear  as 
vigoroush'  in  a  foot-bath  of  molasses  as  they  would  in 
one  of  coal-tar.  He  did.  It  was  a  very  black  day  for 
me,  and  life  generally  seemed  joyless  and  uninviting; 
but  I  cooked  on. 

The  Henry  was  full  of  mice.  These  little  creatures 
would  obtrude  themselves  in  my  dough  wet  up  for 
fresh  bread  over  night,  become  bemired  and  die  there- 
in. Once  a  mouse  thus  dead  was  unconsciously  rolled 
up  in  a  biscuit,  baked  with  it,  and  served  smoking  hot 
for  the  morning's  meal  aft.  It  was  as  it  were  an  in- 
voluntary meat-pie.  Of  course  the  cabin  grumbled; 
but  they  would  grumble  at  anything.  They  were  as 
particular  about  their  food  as  an  habitue  of  Delmon- 
ico's.  I  wish  now  at  times  I  had  saved  that  biscuit  to 
add  to  my  collection  of  odds-and-endibles.  Still  even 
the  biscuit  proved  but  an  episode  in  my  career.  I 
cooked  on,  and  those  I  served  stood  aghast,  not  know- 
ing what  would  come  next. 

After  five  months  of  self-training  I  graduated  on 
pies.  I  studied  and  wrought  out  the  making  of  pies 
unassisted  and  untaught.     Mine  were  sea  mince  pies; 


50 

material,  salt-beef  soaked  to  freshness  and  boiled  ten- 
der, dried  apples  and  molasses.  The  cabin  pronounced 
them  *;'ood.  This  was  one  of  the  few  featliers  in  mj^ 
culinary  cap.  Of  course,  their  goodness  was  relative. 
On  shore  such  a  pie  would  be  scorned.  But  on  a  long- 
sea- voyag-e  almost  an^^  combination  of  flour,  dried  fruit 
and  sugar  will  pass.  Indeed,  the  appetite,  rendered 
more  vigorous  and  perhaps  appreciative  by  long-  de- 
privation from  luxuries,  will  take  not  kindly  to  dried 
apples  alone.  Tlie  changes  in  the  weekly  hill  of  fare 
at  sea  run  something  thus:  Sundays  and  Thursdays 
are  "duff  da3^s";  Tuesday,  bean  day;  Frida\^,  codfish 
and  potato  da3^;  some  vessels  have  one  or  two  special 
daj^s  for  pork;  salt  beef,  hardtack,  tea  and  coffee  are 
fluids  and  solids  to  fall  back  on  every  day.  I  dreaded 
the  making  of  duffs,  or  flour  puddings,  to  the  end  of 
the  voj^age.  Rarely  did  I  attain  success  with  them. 
A  duff  is  a  quantit^^  of  flour  and  yeast,  or  yeast-pow- 
der, mixed,  tied  up  in  a  bag  and  boiled  until  it  is  light. 
Plum-dutt'  argues  the  insertion  of  a  quantity  of  raisins. 
Plain  duff  is  duff  without  raisins.  But  the  proper 
cooking  of  a  duff  is  rather  a  delicate  matter.  If  it  boils 
too  long  the  flour  settles  into  a  hard,  putt^^-like  mass 
Avhereunto  there  is  neither  sponginess,  lig-htncss,  nor 
that  porousness  which  delights  tlie  heart  of  a  cook 
when  he  takes  his  duff'  from  the  seething  caldron.  If 
the  duff  does  not  boil  long  enough,  the  interior  is  still 
a  iDaste.  If  a  duff  stops  boiling*  for  ever  so  few  min- 
utes, great  damage  results.  And  sometimes  dviff*  won't 
do  i)roperl3',  an3^wa3^  Mine  were  generally  of  the  hard- 
ened species,  and  the  plums  evinced  atendenc^^to  hold 
mass  meetings  at  the  bottom.  Twice  the  hands  for- 
ward rebelled  at  my  duffs,  and  their  Committee  on 


57 

Culinary  Grievances  bore  them  aft  to  the  door  of  the 
cabin  and  deposited  them  tliere  unbroken  and  uneaten 
for  the  "  GUI  Man's  "  inspection.  Which  pubhc  demon- 
stration I  witnessed  from  m^^  g'alley  door,  and  when 
the  duff  deputation  had  retired,  I  emerged  and  swiftly 
and  silently  bore  that  dulf  away  before  the  Old  Man 
had  finished  his  dinner  below.  It  is  a  hard  ordeal  thus 
to  feel  one's  self  the  subject  of  such  an  outbreak  of 
popular  indignation.  But  my  sympathies  now  are  all 
with  the  sailors.  A  spoiled  duff  is  a  g-reat  misfortune 
in  the  forecastle  of  a  whak^r,  where  neither  pi«'  nor 
cake  nor  any  other  delicacy,  save  boiled  flour  and  mo- 
lasses sauce,  come  from  month's  end  to  month's  end. 

In  St.  Bartholomew's  or  Turtle  bay,  as  the  Avhalers 
call  it,  where  for  five  months  we  lay,  taking-  and  cur- 
ing- abalones,  our  food  was  chiefly  turtle.  This  httle 
harbor  swarmed  with  them.  After  a  few  hours'  hunt 
one  of  our  wlialeboats  would  rctui^n  with  Ave  or  six  of 
these  imwieldy  creat ures  in  tlie  bottom,  some  so  larg-e 
and  heavy  as  to  require  hoisting-  over  the  side.  Often 
tlie  green  fat  under  the  callipee,  or  under  shell,  lay 
three  inches  in  thickness.  I  served  up  turtle  fried, 
turtle  stewed,  quarters  of  turtle  roasted  and  stuffed 
like  loins  of  veal,  turtle  plain  boiled  and  turtles'  flip- 
pers, boiled  to  a  jelly  and  pickled.  A  turtle  is  a  vari- 
ously flavored  being-.  Almost  every  portion  has  a 
distinct  and  individual  taste.  After  all,  old  Jake,  our 
black  boatsteerer,  showed  us  the  most  delicate  part  of 
the  turtle,  and  one  previously  thrown  away.  This  was 
the  tripe,  cleansed  of  a  thin  inner  skin.  When  the 
cabin  table  had  once  feasted  on  stewed  turtle  tripe 
they  called  for  it  continuously.  After  many  trials  and 
much  advice  and  sugg-estion,  I  learned  to  cook  accept- 


58 

ably  the  abalone.  The  eatable  part  of  this  shell-fish 
when  fresh  is  as  larg-e  as  a  small  tea  saucer.  There 
are  two  varieties,  the  white  and  black.  The  white  is 
the  best.  Cut  up  in  pieces  and  stewed,  as  I  attempted 
at  first,  the  abalone  turned  out  stewed  bits  of  g-utta 
percha;  fried,  it  was  fried  g'utta  percha.  Then  a  man 
from  another  vessel  came  on  board,  Avho  taught  me  to 
inclose  a  single  abalone  in  a  small  canvas  bag*  and 
then  pound  it  to  a  jelh^  with  a  wooden  mallet.  This 
process  g-ot  the  honey  out  of  the  abalone.  The  re- 
mains of  four  or  five  abalones  thus  pounded  to  a  pulp, 
and  then  allowed  to  simmer  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
would  make  a  big-  tureen  of  the  most  delicious  soup 
man  ever  tasted,  every  drop  of  which,  on  cooling-,  hard- 
ened to  the  consistency  of  calves^-foot  jell^^  When 
my  cabin  boarders  had  once  become  infected  with  aba- 
lone soup  they  wanted  me  to  keep  bring-ing-  it  along-. 
The  Americans  do  not  Ivuow  or  use  all  the  food  in  the 
sea  which  is  g'ood. 

I  was  an  experimental  cook,  and  once  or  twice,  while 
cutting'-in  whale,  tried  them  with  whale  meat.  The 
flesh  lying-  under  the  blubber  somewhat  resembles  beef 
in  color,  and  is  so  tender  as  easily  to  be  torn  apart  by 
the  hands.  But  Avhale  meat  is  not  docile  under  culi- 
nar^^  treatment.  Gastronomically,  it  has  an  individu- 
ality of  its  own,  which  will  keep  on  assei-ting-  itself,  no 
matter  how  much  spice  and  pepper  is  put  upon  it.  It 
is  a  wild,  untamed  steed.  I  propounded  it  to  my  g-uests 
in  the  g"uise  of  sausag-es,  but  wlien  the  meal  was  over 
the  sausag-es  were  there  still.  It  can't  be  done  Shark 
can.  Shark's  is  a  sweet  meat,  uiuch  resembling-  that 
of  the  swordfish,  but  uo  man  will  ever  eat  a  whale,  at 
least  an  old  one.    The  calves  miirht  conduct  themselves 


59 

better  in  the  fr^ing'-paii.  We  had  many  about  us 
whose  mothers  we  had  killed,  but  we  never  thought  of 
frying-  them.  When  a  whaler  is  trying  out  oil,  she  is 
blackened  with  the  greasy  soot  arising  from  the  burn- 
ing blubber  scraps  from  stem  to  stern.  It  falls  like  a 
storm  of  black  snow-flakes.  They  sift  into  the  tiniest 
crevice.  Of  all  this  my  cookery  got  its  full  share.  It 
tinged  my  bread  and  even  my  pies  Avith  a  funereal  tinge 
of  blackness.  The  deck  at  such  times  was  covered 
with  "  horse  pieces ''  up  to  the  top  of  the  bulwarks. 
"  Horse  picees  "  are  chunks  of  blubber  a  foot  or  so  in 
length,  that  being  one  stage  of  their  reduction  to  the 
size  necessary  for  the  try  pots.  I  have  introduced 
them  here  for  the  purpose  of  remarking  that  on  my 
passage  to  and  fro,  fi'om  galle^^  to  cabin,  while  engaged 
in  laying  the  cloth  and  arranging  our  services  of  gold 
plate  and  Sevres  ware,  I  liad  to  clamber,  wade,  climb, 
and  sometimes,  in  m^^  white  necktie  and  swallow-tail 
coat,  actually  crawl  over  the  greasy  mass  with  the  sil- 
ver tureen  full  of  "consomme "or  "soup  Julien,"  while 
I  held  the  gilt-edged  aiul  enanu'lled  menu  between  my 
teeth.  Those  were  trying-out  times  for  a  maritime 
head  butler. 

The  cook  socially  does  not  raidv  high  at  sea.  He 
staiuls  very  near  the  bottom  round  of  the  ladder.  He 
is  the  subject  of  many  jests  and  low  comparisons. 
This  should  not  be.  The  cook  should  rank  next  or 
near  to  the  captain.  It  is  the  cook  who  prepares  the 
material  wliich  shall  put  mental  and  phj'sical  strength 
into  human  bodies.  He  is,  in  fact,  a  chemist,  who  car- 
ries on  the  last  external  processes  with  meat,  flour, 
and  vegetables  necessar^^  to  prepare  them  for  their  in- 
visii)le  and  still  more  wonderful  treatment  in  the  labo- 


60 

ratory  which  every  man  and  woman  possesses — the 
stomach — whei'eh^^  these  raw  materials  are  converted 
not  only  into  blood,  bone,  nerve,  sinew,  and  muscle, 
but  Into  thoug'hts.  A  good  cook  may  help  materially 
to  make  g-ood  poetry,  ^n  indigestible  beefsteak,  fried 
in  grease  to  leather,  may,  in  the  stomach  of  a  General, 
lose  a  battle  on  which  shall  depend  the  fate  of  nations. 
A  good  cook  might  have  won  the  battle.  Of  course, 
he  would  receive  no  credit  therefor,  save  the  conviction 
in  his  own  culinary  soul,  that  his  beefsteak  properl^^ 
and  quickly  broiled  was  thus  enabled  to  digest  itself 
properly  in  the  stomach  of  the  General,  and  thereby 
transmit  to  and  through  the  General's  organism  that 
amount  of  nerve  force  and  vigor,  which,  acting  upon 
the  brain,  caused  all  his  intelligence  and  talent  to  at- 
tain its  maximum,  and  thereby  conquer  his  adversary. 
That's  what  a  cook  may  do.  This  would  be  a  far  bet- 
ter and  happier  w^orld  were  there  more  really  good 
cooks  on  land  and  sea.  And  when  all  cooks  are  Blots 
or  So^^ers,  then  will  we  have  a  societ^^  to  be  proud  of. 


61- 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SIGHTS   WHILE  COOKING. 

St.  Bartholomew  or  Turtle  Ba^-  is  a  small,  almost 
circular,  sheet  of  water  and  suri'ounded  by  some  of  the 
dreariest  territory  in  the  world.  The  mountains  which 
stand  about  it  seem  the  cooled  and  liardened  deposit 
of  a  volcano.  Vegetation  there  is  none,  save  cactus 
and  other  spined,  horned,  and  sting'ing-  growths.  Of 
fresh  water,  whether  in  springs,  rividets,  or  brooks, 
there  is  none.  Close  b}^  our  boat-landing-  was  tlie 
g-rave  of  a  mother  and  child,  ];nid(Hl  a  few  years  pre- 
vious from  a  wreck,  who  had  perished  of  thirst.  Co- 
3'otes,  hares,  and  birds  must  have  relieved  thirst  some- 
where, possibly  from  the  dews,  which  are  very  copious. 
Our  decks  and  rig-g-ing"  in  the  morning"  looked  as  thoug-li 
soaked  by  a  heavy  shower.  Reg-ularly  at  night  the 
co^'otes  came  down  and  howled  over  that  lone  g-rave, 
and  the  bass  to  their  fiend-like  yelping-  were  furnished 
by  the  l)oom  of  the  Pacific  snrg-es  on  the  reef  outside. 
To  these  gloomy  sounds  in  the  nig-ht  stillness  and 
blackness,  there  used  for  a  time  to  be  added  the  in- 
cessant g-roaning-  of  a  wretched  Sandwich  Islander, 
who,  dying-  of  consumption,  would  drag-  himself  at 
nig-ht  on  deck  to  avoid  disturbing-  the  sleep  of  the 
crowded  forecastle.  Small  hope  for  help  is  there  for 
any  thus  afflicted  on  a  whaler.  There  is  no  physician 
but  the  Captain,  and  his  practice  dares  not  go  mucli 


'63 

beyond  a  dose  of  salts  or  castor-oil.  The  poor  fellow 
was  at  last  found  dead,  eai'ly  one  evening-,  in  his  bunk, 
while  his  countrymen  were  singing,  talking,  laughing, 
and  smoking  about  him.  It  was  a  relief  to  all,  for  his 
case  was  hopeless,  and  such  miser^^,  so  impossible  to 
relieve,  is  terrible  to  witness  on  a  mere  fishing-schooner 
so  ci'owded  as  ours.  The  dead  man  was  buried  at  sea 
without  any  service,  much  to  the  disgust  of  one  of  our 
coopers,  who,  although  not  a  "  professor,"  believed 
that  such  affairs  should  be  conducted  in  an  orthodox, 
ship-shape  fashion.  Some  one,  after  the  corpse  had  slid 
overboard,  remarked,  "  Well,  he's  dead  and  buried," 
whereat  the  cooper  muttered,  *' He's  dead,  but  he  ain't 
Avhat  I  call  buried."  I  don't  think  the  Captain  omitted 
the  bui'ial  service  through  any  indifference,  but  rather 
from  a  sensitiveness  to  officiate  in  any  such  semi-cleri- 
cal fashion. 

Some  rocks  not  far  from  our  anchorage  were  seen 
covered  at  early  dawn  eveiy  morning  with  thousands 
of  large  black  sea-birds.  They  were  thickly  crowded 
together  and  all  silent  and  immovable,  until  apparently 
they  had  finished  some  Quaker  form  of  morning  devo- 
tion, when  they  commenced  flying  off,  not  all  at  once, 
but  in  series  of  long  straggling  flocks.  In  simdar  si- 
lence and  order  they  would  return  at  night  from  some 
far-off  locality.  Never  during  all  the  months  of  our 
stay  did  we  hear  a  sound  from  them.  Morning  after 
morning  with  the  earliest  lig-ht  this  raven-colored  host 
were  ever  on  their  chosen  rocks,  brooding  as  it  were 
ere  their  flight  OA^er  some  solemnity  peculiar  to  their 
existence. 

The  silent  birds  gone,  there  came  regularly  before 
sunrise  a  wonderful  mirage.     Far  away  and  low  down 


63 

in  the  distant  seaward  horizon  there  seemed  vag-iiely 
shadowed  forth  lon^  hnes  one  above  and  behind  the 
other  of  towers,  walls,  battlements,  spires  and  the  ir- 
regular outline  of  some  weird  ancient  city.  These 
shapes,  seemingly  motionless,  in  reality  changed  from 
minute  to  minute,  yet  the  movement  was  not  percep- 
tible. Now  it  was  a  long  level  wall  with  an  occasional 
watch-tower.  Then  the  walls  grew  higher  and  higher, 
and  there  towered  a  lofty,  round,  cone  shaped  struc- 
ture, with  a  suggestion  of  a  flight  of  circular  steps  on 
the  outside,  as  in  the  old-fashioned  Suiulay-school  books 
was  seen  pictured  the  tower  of  Babel.  It  would  reveal 
itself  in  var^nng  degrees  of  distinctness.  But  when 
the  eye,  attracted  by  some  other  feature  of  the  specta- 
cle, turned  again  in  its  direction  it  was  gone.  A  haze 
of  purple  covered  as  with  a  gauzy  veil  these  beautiful 
morning  panoramas.  Gazed  at  steadily"  it  seemed  as 
a  dream  realized  in  one's  waking  moments.  It  was 
sometimes  for  me  a  sight  fraught  with  dangerous  fas- 
cination, and  often  as  I  looked  upon  it,  forgetting  all 
else  for  the  moment,  have  I  been  recalled  disagreeably 
to  m3"  mundane  sphere  of  slops,  soot,  smoke  and  dish- 
rags,  as  I  heard  the  ominous  sizzle  and  splutter  of 
the  coffee  boiling  over,  or  scented  on  tlie  morning  air 
that  peculiar  odor,  full  of  alarm  to  the  culinary  soul, 
the  odor  of  burning  bread  in  the  oven.  'Tis  ever  thus 
that  the  fondest  illusions  of  life  are  rudely  broken  in 
upon  by  the  vulgar  necessities  and  accidents  of  eartlily 
existence. 

There  were  ten  Sandwich  Islanders  in  the  forecastle 
of  the  Henry,  one  big  Jamaica  negro,  who  acted  as  a 
sort  of  leader  for  them,  and  no  white  men.  These 
Kanakas  were  docile,  well-beliaved,  could  read  in  their 


64 

own  lang-uag-e,  had  in  tlicir  possession  many  books 
printed  in  their  own  tongue,  and  all  seemed  to  invest 
their  spare  cash  in  clothes.  They  hked  fish,  very 
shg-htly  salted,  which  they  would  eat  without  further 
cooking",  plenty  of  bread,  and,  above  all  things,  mo- 
lasses. Molasses  would  tempt  any  of  these  Islanders 
from  the  path  of  rectitude.  When  not  at  woi'k  they 
were  either  talking  or  singing.  Singl}^  or  in  groups 
of  two  or  three  they  would  sit  about  the  deck  at  night 
performing  a  monotonous  chant  of  a  few  notes.  This 
they  would  keep  up  for  hours.  That  chant  got  mto 
my  head  thirtN^-three  years  ago  and  it  has  never  got 
out  since.  Change  of  scene,  of  life,  of  association,  in- 
crease of  weight,  more  morality,  more  I'egular  habits, 
marriage,  all  have  made  no  difTereiice.  That  Kanaka 
chant,  so  many  thousand  times  lieard  on  the  Southern 
Californian  coast,  will  sometimes  strike  up  of  its  own 
accord,  until  it  tires  me  out  with  its  imagined  cease- 
less repetition.  It^s  there,  a  permanent  fixture.  Rec- 
ollection will  wake  it  up. 

So  unceasing  was  the  gabble  of  these  Kanakas  that 
one  day  I  asked  Jake,  the  negro  boat-steerer,  who 
understood  their  language,  Avhat  they  found  to  talk  so 
much  about.  "Oh,  dey  tnlk  about  anyting,"  said  he; 
"  dey  talk  a  whole  day  'bout  a  pin."  Whereat  I  re- 
tired to  1113-^  maritime  scrubbery  and  kitchen  and  varied 
my  usual  occupation  midst  my  pots,  pans,  and  unde- 
veloped plum  dufl's  with  wondering  if  the  simpler,  or, 
as  we  term  them,  the  infei'ior  races  of  men  are  not 
more  inclined  to  express  their  thoughts  audibl}^  than 
the  superior.  I  do  not  think  an  idea  could  present  it- 
self to  a  Kanaka  without  his  talking  it  out  to  some- 
body. 


Co 

But  some  of  these  simple  children  of  the  Pacific  isles 
used  to  pilfer  hot  biscuits  from  my  g-alley  when  I  was 
absent.  In  vain  I  set  hot  stove  covers  in  front  of  the 
door  for  them  to  step  on  and  burn  their  bare  feet.  I 
burned  myself  on  the  iron  I  had  prepared  for  my  re- 
centl}'  civilized,  if  not  converted,  heathen  brother. 
Both  the  superior  and  inferior  races  often  went  bare- 
footed on  the  Henry  while  in  the  lower  latitudes. 

At  times,  leaving"  a  portion  of  the  crew  at  the  St. 
Bartholomew's  bay  station  to  collect  and  cure  abalone, 
the  schooner  cruised  about  the  coast  for  sea-elephant. 
Not  far  from  the  bay  are  the  islands  of  Cedros  (or 
Cedars),  Natividad  and  some  others.  The  lirst  we  saw 
of  Cedros  was  her  tree-covered  mountain-tops  floating*, 
as  it  were,  in  the  air  above  us  on  a  sea  of  fog\  This 
lifting-,  we  were  boarded  by  a  boat  containing-  two 
men.  They  proved  to  be  two  Robinson  Crusoes,  by 
name  Miller  and  Whitney,  who  had  been  alone  on  the 
island  nearly  six  months.  They,  with  others,  had  fitted 
out  in  San  Francisco  a  joint-stock  vessel  and  were  left 
with  a  supply  of  i)i'ovisions  on  Cedros  to  seal.  Their 
vessel  was  long-  ovei-due,  their  provisions  down  to  the 
last  pound  of  biscuits,  and  they  were  living-  larg-ely  on 
fish  and  venison,  for  thoug-h  Cedros  is  many  miles  from 
the  main  land,  deer  have  g-ot  there  somehow,  as  well 
as  rattlesnakes.  Their  vessel  never  did  return,  for 
their  Captain  ran  away  with  her  and  sold  her  in  some 
South  American  port.  Miller  and  Whitney  joined  our 
crew  and  made  the  remainder  of  the  voyag-e  with  us. 
They  brought  on  board  all  their  worldly  g-oods  in  two 
small  trunks;  also,  a  kettleful  of  boiled  venison,  a 
treat  which  they  were  very  g-lad  to  exchang-e  for  some 
long--coveted  salt  pork.  The\-  reported  that  a  "  stinker  " 


6(j 

was  lying"  among  the  rocks  ashore.  A  "  stinker "  in 
whaleman's  parlance  is  a  dead  whale.  In  giving 
things  names  a  whaleman  is  largely  influenced  by  their 
most  prominent  traits  or  qualities,  and  the  odorous 
activity  of  a  dead  whale  can  be  felt  for  miles.  They 
told  us,  also,  that  they  had  nineteen  barrels  of  seal  oil 
stored  on  the  island  of  Natividad.  Natividad  is  but  a 
bleached-topped,  guano-covered  rock.  We  sailed 
thither  but  found  no  oil.  The  Captain  who  had  stolen 
their  vessel  also  included  the  oil.  Miller  and  Whitney 
proved  ver}^  useful  men.  Whitney  was  a  powerful 
talker.  Miller  never  spoke  unless  under  compulsion. 
Whether  in  their  six  months  of  Cedros  isolation  such 
a  pair  had  been  well  mated  is  a  matter  on  which  there 
ma^^  be  variance  of  opinion.  Perhaps  from  a  collo- 
quial standpoint  some  if  not  man}^  long-married  men 
can  best  tell.  Miller  was  a  Vermonter,  and  had  spent 
seventeen  years  of  his  life  roaming  about  among  sel- 
dom-visited South  Sea  islands.  Could  his  tongue  have 
been  permanentlj^  loosened  and  his  brain  stimulated 
to  conversational  activity,  his  might  have  been  a  most 
interesting  story.  Once  in  a  great  while  there  came 
from  him  a  slight  shower  of  sentences  and  facts  which 
fell  gratefull3^  on  our  parched  ears,  but  as  a  rule  the 
verbal  drought  was  chronic.  He  had  an  irritating 
fashion  also  of  intonating  the  first  portions  of  his  sen- 
tences in  an  audible  key  and  then  dying  awa^^  almost 
to  a  whisper.  This,  when  the  tale  was  interesting, 
proved  maddening  to  his  hearers.  He  spoke  once  of 
living  on  an  island  whose  natives  were  almost  white, 
and  the  women  well  formed  and  finer  looking  than  any 
of  the  Polynesian  race  he  had  ever  seen.  Polygamy 
was  not  practised;  they  were  devoted  to  one  wife; 


b< 

and  their  life,  cleanliness  and  manners,  as  he  described 
them,  made,  with  the  addition  of  a  little  of  one's  own 
imag-ination,  a  pleasing-  picture.  Miller's  g-reatest  use 
to  mankind  la\'  in  his  hands,  in  which  all  his  brain- 
power concentrated  instead  of  his  tongue.  From 
splicing"  a  cable  to  skinning-  a  seal,  he  was  an  ultra 
proficient.  Others  might  tell  how  and  tell  well,  but 
Miller  did  it.  Talking-  seemed  to  fatig-ue  him.  Every 
sentence  ere  completed  fell  in  a  sort  of  a  swoon. 

In  St.  Bartholomew's,  alias  Turtle,  Bay,  we  la^^  four 
months,  taking-  abalones.  All  hands  were  called  every 
morning-  at  four  o'clock.  Breakfast  was  quickly  dis- 
patched, their  noon  lunch  prepared,  and  everybody 
save  myself  was  away  from  the  vessel  by  five.  That 
'was  the  last  I  saw  of  them  until  sunset,  and  I  was  very 
g-lad  to  be  rid  of  the  whole  g'ang-  and  be  left  alone  with 
ni}^  own  thoug-hts,  pots,  pans,  and  kettles.  The  aba- 
lone  cling-s  to  the  surf-washed  rocks  by  suction.  It 
has  but  one  outer  shell.  San  Francisco  is  ver^-  fami- 
liar with  their  prismatic  hues  inside,  and  the  same  out- 
side when  g-round  and  pohshed.  Heaps  of  those  shells, 
three  feet  in  heig-ht  and  bleached  to  a  dead  white  by  the 
sun,  lay  on  the  beaches  about  us.  Of  unbleached  and 
lively -hued  shells  we  took  on  board  several  tons.  They 
were  sent  to  Europe,  and  there  used  for  inlaid  work. 
The  live  abalone  must  be  pried  off  the  rock  with  stout 
iron  chisels  or  wedg-es.  It  was  roug-h  work  collecting- 
them  from  the  rocky  ledg-es  in  a  heavy  surf.  Carried 
to  the  curing-  depot  on  shore,  the  entrails  were  cut 
away  and  the  round,  solid  chunk  of  meat  left  was  first 
boiled  and  then  dried  in  the  sun.  An  inferior  pearl  is 
often  found  within  the  body  of  the  abalone.  Our  one 
Chinaman,  Ah  Sam,  was  chef  of  the  abalone-curing 


GS 

kitchen  on  shore.  He  was  shipped  for  that  purpose. 
One  live  abalone  will  cling-  to  the  back  of  another  too 
tig"htly  to  be  pulled  off  easil}^  by  hand,  and  you  may 
in  this  way  pile  them  on  top  of  one  another,  and  thus 
erect  a  column  of  abalone  as  jnany  feet  in  heig'ht  as 
you  choose  to  build.  These  fish  were  intended  for  the 
Chinese  market,  and  the  projectors  of  the  voyag-e  ex- 
pected to  g-et  forty  cents  per  pound  for  them  in  San 
Francisco.  When  some  forty  tons  had  been  cured  we 
heard  from  a  passing-  steamer  that  the  English  had 
instituted  another  of  their  Christian  wars  with  China, 
for  which  reason  abalones  m  San  Francisco  broug-ht 
only  ten  cents  per  pound.  Then  we  stopped  cooking- 
abalones,  hauled  up  our  anchor  and  hunted  the  sea- 
lion  and  the  whale. 

But  while  in  St.  Bartholomew's  Bay  I  was  left  alone 
on  the  vessel  all  da}'  Avith  no  companions  save  the 
g-ulls  in  the  air  and  the  sharks  in  the  water.  Both 
were  plentiful.  The  gulls  made  themselves  especially 
sociable.  They  would  come  boldly  on  board  and  feast 
on  the  quarters  of  turtle-meat  hung  up  in  the  rigging. 
Once  I  found  one  in  the  cabin  pecking  away  at  the 
crumbs  on  the  table.  His  gulhble  mind  got  into  a 
terrible  state  on  seeing  me.  I  whacked  him  to  my 
heart's  content  with  the  table-cloth.  He  experienced 
great  trouble  in  flying  up  the  cabin  stairway.  In  fact, 
he  couldn't  steer  himself  straight  up  stands.  His  ami 
on  starting  himself  was  correct  enough,  like  that  of 
many  a  young  man  or  Avoman  in  commencing  life;  but 
instead  of  going  the  straight  and  narrow  path  up  the 
companionway  he  would  bring  up  against  a  deck  beam. 
There  is  no  limit  to  the  feeding  capacity  of  those 
Pacific-coast  gulls.     The  Avonder  is  where  it  all  goes 


69 

to.  I  have  experimentally  cut  up  and  thrown  in  small 
pieces  to  a  g'uU  as  much  fat  pork  as  would  make  a 
meal  for  two  men,  and  the  g-ull  has  promptly  swal- 
lowed it  all,  waited  for  more,  and  visibly  g-ot  no  big-g-er. 
They  never  gf^t  fat.  Sometimes  I  tied  two  bits  of  meat 
to  either  end  of  a  long  string  and  flung*  it  overboard. 
Barely  had  it  touched  the  water  when  the  meat  at 
either  end  was  swallowed  by  two  of  these  bottomless 
scavengers,  and  they  would  fly  away,  each  pulling  hard 
at  the  latest  received  contents  of  the  other's  stomach. 
The  picture  reminded  me  of  some  married  lives.  They 
pulled  together,  but  they  didn't  pull  the  right  way. 

At  low  tide  the  shore  would  be  lined  with  these  birds 
vainly  trying  to  All  themselves  with  shellfish  and  such 
cai^rion  as  the  waters  had  left.  It  couldn't  be  called 
feeding;  a  Pacific-coast  g-ull  does  not  feed,  it  seeks 
simply  to  fill  up  the  vast,  unfathomable  space  within. 
Eternity  is,  of  course,  without  end,  but  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  eternity  must  be  the  inside  of  a  gull;  I 
would  say  stomach,  but  a  stomach  implies  metes  and 
bounds,  and  there  is  no  proof  that  there  are  any  metes 
and  bounds  inside  of  a  gull.  It  was  g-ood  entertain- 
ment to  see  the  coyotes  come  down  and  manoeuvre  to 
catch  the  g-ulls.  There  was  a  plain  hard  beach,  per- 
haps a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  between  coyote  and 
gull.  Of  course  coyote  couldn't  walk  across  this  and 
eat  gull  up.  So  he  went  to  work  to  create  an  impres- 
sion in  gull's  mind  that  he  was  thereon  other  business, 
and  was  quite  indilferent,  if  not  ol)livious,  to  all  gulls. 
He  would  commence  making  long  straight  laps  of  half 
a  mile  on  the  beach.  At  the  end  of  each  lap  he  would 
turn  and  run  back  a  few  feet  nearer  gull;  back  an- 
other lap,  another  turn,  and  so  on.     But  he  wasn't  look- 


70 

ing"  for  a  gull.  He  didn't  know  there  was  a  gull  in  the 
world.  He  had  some  business  straight  ahead  of  him 
which  banished  all  the  gulls  in  the  world  from  his 
mind.  He  kept  forg-etting"  something  and  had  to  run 
hack  for  it.  And  the  gull  on  the  water's  edge,  trying 
to  fill  its  void  where  men  imagined  a  stomach  to  be, 
liad  no  fears  of  that  coyote.  It  realized  the  momen- 
tous and  all-absorbing  character  of  coyote's  business. 
There  was  no  danger.  So  coyote,  getting  a  little 
nearer  and  a  little  nearer  at  each  turn,  suddenly  shot 
out  of  his  lap  at  a  tangent,  and  another  gull  was  for- 
ever relieved  of  the  impossible  task  of  trying  to  fill  it- 
self. 


71 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

WHALING   IX   MARGUERITA  BAY. 

Marguerita  Bay  lies  on  the  Mexican  coast  about 
200  miles  north  of  Cape  St.  Lucas.  On  arriving- 
the  schooner  was  "  kedg-ed  "  up  the  lag-oons  running- 
parallel  with  the  coast  fully  one  hundred  miles.  This 
took  two  weeks.  We  passed,  as  it  were,  through  a 
succession  of  mill-ponds,  filled  with  low,  g-reen  islands, 
whose  dense  shubbery  extended  to  the  water's  edg'e. 
The  trunks  of  a  small  umbrella-shaped  tree  were 
washed  by  the  tides  to  the  height  of  several  feet,  and 
thickly  incrusted  with  small  oysters.  When  we  wanted 
oysters  we  went  on  shore  and  chopped  down  a  boat- 
load of  trees.  Is  it  necessary  to  remark  that  the  trees 
did  not  g-row  the  oysters.  The  03^sters  g-rew  on  the 
trees,  and  they  were  as  palatable  as  so  many  copper 
cents,  whose  taste  they  resembled.  When  cooked,  the 
coppery  taste  departed.  The  channel  throug-h  these 
lagoons  was  very  crooked.  It  was  necessary  to  stake 
out  a  portion  at  low  water,  when  it  ran  a  mere  creek 
throug-h  an  expanse  of  hard  sand,  sometimes  a  mile 
from  either  shore.  At  hig-h  water  all  this  would  be 
covered  to  a  depth  of  six  or  seven  feet.  The  Henry 
grounded  at  each  ebb,  and  often  keeled  over  at  an  angle 
of  forty-five.  From  our  bulwarks  it  was  often  possi- 
ble to  jump  on  dry  ground.     Thiskeeling-over  process, 


72 

twice  repeated  every  twenty-four  hours,  was  particu- 
larly hard  on  the  cook,  for  the  inconvenience  resulting- 
from  such  a  forty-five-deg-ree  an^le  of  inclination 
extended  to  all  thing's  within  his  province.  My 
stove  worked  hadl^^  at  the  ang-le  of  forty -five.  The 
kettle  could  he  hut  half-filled,  and  only  hoiled  where 
the  water  was  shallowest  inside.  The  cahin  tahle 
could  only  he  set  at  an  ang-le  of  forty -five.  So  that 
while  the  g-uests  on  the  upper  side  had  great  difficulty 
in  preventing"  themselves  from  slipping"  olT  their  seats 
on  and  over  that  tahle,  those  on  the  lower  side  had 
equal  difficulty  in  keeping"  themselves  up  to  a  con- 
venient feeding"  distance.  Captain  Reynolds,  at  the 
head  of  the  hoard,  had  a  hard  lot  in  the  endeavor  to 
maintain  his  dig"nity  and  sitting-  perpendicuhirly  at 
the  same  time  on  the  then  permanent  and  not  popular 
ang-le  of  fort^^-five.  But  I,  steward,  hutler,  cook,  and 
cahin  hoy,  hore  the  hardest  tribulation  of  all  in  carry- 
ing" m}^  dishes  across  the  deck,  down  the  cahin  stairs, 
and  arrang-ing"  them  on  a  table  at  an  ang-le  of  fort^^- 
five.  Of  course,  at  this  time  the  rack  used  in  roug"h 
weather  to  prevent  plates  and  platters  from  slipping" 
off  was  broug"ht  into  permanent  use.  Transit  from  g"al- 
ley  to  cahin  w^as  accomplished  by  crawling"  on  two 
leg"s  and  one  arm,  thus  making"  of  myself  a  peripatetic 
human  triang"le,  while  the  unoccupied  hand  with  diffi- 
cult^'  hore  aloft  the  soup-tureen.  It  was  then  I  ap- 
preciated the  g"reat  advantag"es  afforded  in  certain  cir- 
cumstances by  the  prehensile  caudal  termination  of 
our  possible  remote  ancestors.  With  such  a  properly 
equipped  appendag"e,  the  steward  might  hav^e  taken  a 
close  hitch  round  an  ej^ebolt,  and  let  all  the  rest  of 
himself    and   his  dishes  safely  down  into    the    little 


73 

cabin.  It  is  questionable  whether  man's  condition  has 
been  physically  improved  by  the  process  of  evolution. 
He  may  have  lost  more  than  he  has  gained.  A 
monkey  can  well  afford  to  scorn  the  relatively 
clumsy  evolutions  of  the  most  skilful  human  brother 
acrobat. 

Mar^^uerita  Bay  was  the  nursery  of  the  female 
whales,  or  in  whaler's  parlance,  "cows."  The  long-, 
quiet  lagoons,  fringed  with  green,  their  waters  warmed 
by  the  sun  to  a  most  agreeable  temperature,  were  the 
resort  during  the  spring  montiis  of  the  mother  whales 
to  bring  forth  and  nurse  their  young.  The  bulls  gen- 
erally remained  outside.  The  cows  Avere  killed  with 
tolerable  ease  in  the  shoal  waters  of  the  bay.  Outside 
they  have,  on  l)eing  struck,  the  reputation  of  running 
out  all  the  line  a  boat  can  spare  and  then  demanding 
more.  Grant  could  never  have  fought  it  out  on  one 
line  with  a  "California  Gray."  In  the  lagoons,  so 
long  as  the  calf  was  uninjured,  the  mother  would  slow 
her  own  pace,  so  as  to  remain  by  her  3^oung.  Thus 
she  became  an  easy  sacrifice.  If  the  calf  was  wounded, 
woe  to  the  boat's  crew.  The  cow  seemed  to  smell  the 
blood  the  moment  it  was  drawn  from  its  offspring. 
The  first  time  this  happened^the  boat-steerer  acci- 
dentally slipping  his  lance  into  the  calf — the  cow  turned 
and  chased  tlie  boat  ashore.  The  tables  were  turned. 
The  miserable  pigmies,  who  dared  strike  Leviathan's 
child,  were  saved  because  their  boat  could  float  where 
Mrs.  Whale  couldn't.  She  drew  at  least  seven  feet 
of  water.  A  whale  is  one  of  the  few  things  read  of 
that  is  bigger  than  it  looks.  The  pigmies  hauled  the 
boat  upon  the  beach,  while  the  whale  for  full  half  an 
hour  swam  to  and  fro  where  her  soundings  were  safe, 


74 

and  embarg-oecl  them.  It  was,  with  her,  "  Come  off  if 
you  dare."  But  they  didn't  care  to  dare,  and  finally 
she  went  awa^^  unkilled.  She  managed  at  the  start 
to  give  the  boat  one  crack,  enough  to  fill  it  with  water. 
But  whaleboats  are  made  to  be  broken.  A  few  hours' 
work  and  the  insertion  of  a  few  bits  of  wood  in  the 
light  clinker-built  sides  will  restore  a  whaleboat  which, 
to  an  inexperienced  eye,  looks  fit  only  for  kindling- 
wood.  A  whale  is  much  more  of  an  animal  than 
people  generally  imagine.  There's  a  great  deal  of 
affection  somewhere  in  that  big  carcass.  I  have  seen 
them  close  aboard  from  the  schooner's  deck  play  with 
their  young*  and  roll  and  thrash  about  in  mammoth 
gambols.  They  knew  the  doors  to  these  lagoons  lead- 
ing out  into  the  ocean  as  well  as  men  know  the  doors 
to  their  houses.  When  strucK,  though  miles  distant, 
they  made  straight  for  that  door,  and  if  not  killed  be- 
fore reaching  it  they  escaped,  for  no  boat,  when  fast, 
could  be  towed  through  the  huge  Pacific  breakers. 
Pigmy  man  in  such  case  sullenly  cut  his  line  and  sul- 
kily rowed  back  to  his  crowded  little  schooner  to 
growl  at  the  cook. 

We  filled  up  in  six  weeks.  Our  luck  was  the  envy 
of  the  eleven  other  vessels  in  Marguerita  Bay.  This 
luck  was  mainly  due  to  "  Black  Jake,"  a  huge  Jamaica 
negro,  with  the  face  of  a  Caliban,  the  arm  of  a  Her- 
cules and  a  stomach  greater  than  an  ostrich's  for  rum. 
When  we  left  San  Francisco  he  had  a  tier  of  t\venty- 
five  bottles,  full,  stored  under  his  bunk,  and  not  a  soul 
was  ever  the  wiser  for  it  until  all  were  emptied.  He 
kept  his  OAvn  head  level,  his  own  counsel,  and  lying  in 
his  berth  in  tlie  early  evening  hours  of  his  watch  be- 
low, would  roll  over,  turn  his  back  to  the  noisy,  chat- 


teriui;'  Kanaka  audience  of  the  forecastle,  and  put  the 
bottle,  but  not  to  his  neig'hbors'  hps.  He  was  king*  of 
the  forecastle,  king"  of  the  Kanaka  crew,  and  king  of 
the  whaleboat  when  after  a  "  muscle-digger."  He  could 
throw  a  harpoon  twice  as  far  as  an  ordinary  man,  and 
it  was  to  this  force  of  muscle,  added  to  a  certain  knack 
of  his  own  in  working  up  to  the  "  grayback,''  before 
striking",  and  managing'  the  boat  after,  that  we  owed 
our  successful  voyage.  Great  was  his  fame  as  a  whale- 
killer  in  Margiu'rita  Bay.  Many  were  the  ofTers  made 
by  masters  of  other  vessels  to  bribe  him  from  us.  He 
remained  true  to  us.  Hard  were  the  knocks  the  cows 
g-ave  their  boats  and  sometimes  their  crews.  One 
well-appointed  schooner  lying  near  us  had  her  boats 
stove  twenty-six  times  during  our  stay.  Twelve  men 
out  of  the  fleet  were  more  or  less  injured.  "Dese 
yere  whale,"  Jake  would  remark  to  his  audiences  in 
the  night  yarns  when  one  or  two  other  boats'  crews 
from  other  vessels  came  on  board,  "dey  aint'  like  oder 
whales.  Dar  ways  are  'culiar,  and  j^e  got  to  mind 
sharp  how  j^e  get  onto  'em."  But  nobody  ever  solved 
Jake's  "  'culiar  way  o'  getting  onto  'em." 

A  harpoon  was  not  a  toasting-fork  to  throw  in  the 
days  when  men  oftener  threw  the  iron  by  muscle  in- 
stead of  ])owder.  It  is  a  shod,  with  a  heavy  wooden 
pole  five  or  six  feet  in  length  fastened  into  the  socket  of 
the  iron  l)ar1).  This,  with  the  line  attached,  makes  a 
weiglit  requiring  for  1  Ik^  cast  the  use  of  both  arms,  and 
strong  arms  at  that.  A  inan  would  not  care  to  carry 
a  harpoon  more  than  a  mile  in  a  hot  day.  Its  own 
weight,  as  much  as  the  impelling  force,  is  depended  on 
to  bury  itself  in  the  floating  mound  of  seemingl^^  pol- 
ished  India-rubber  which  constitutes  a  whale  above 


76 

wafcer.  And  when  it  first  buries  itself,  there  is  for  a 
few  seconds  some  vicious  splashing'  and  ugly  flirting* 
of  fluke  or  fin.  A  whale's  tail  is  an  instrument  of 
olTence  of  about  one  hundred  horse  power,  and  well 
adapted  to  cutting"  through  a  boat  as  a  table  knife 
g'oes  through  an  egg-  shell.  The  two  fins  suggest 
members  between  paddles  and  rudimentary  arms.  It 
is  also  a  member  very  capable  of  striking  out  from 
tlie  right  or  left  shoulder,  and  striking  very  hard. 
When  a  half-dozen  men  are  within  six  feet  of  these 
weapons,  controlled  by  an  enormous  black  sunken  mass, 
eighty  or  one  hundred  feet  long,  they  are  apt  to  look  a 
trifle  wild  and  their  eyes  have  a  tendency  to  bulge. 
There  are  stories  among  whalemen  of  boat-steerers 
who  have  had  all  the  g'rit  permanently  taken  out  of 
them  by  the  perils  and  catastrophes  of  that  moment. 
A  New  Londoner  once  had  the  cap  swept  from  his 
head  by  the  sweep  of  the  whale's  tail  over  it,  and  he 
was  too  nervous  for  boat  service  ever  afterward.  It 
is  no  skulking  fight,  like  shooting  lions  and  tigers 
from  the  shelter  of  trees  or  rocks.  It's  a  fair  stand- 
up  combat  between  half  a  dozen  men  in  an  egg-sliell 
of  a  boat  on  the  open  sea,  and  sometimes  on  heavy 
ocean  billows,  and  500  tons  of  flesh,  bone,  and  muscles, 
which,  if  only  animated  by  a  few  more  grains  of  sense, 
could  ram  the  whaleship  herself  as  efl'ectually  as  an 
ironclad.  As  a  murderous  spectacle  the  capture  and 
killing"  of  a  whale,  as  seen  even  by  a  sea-cook  from  the 
galley  window,  is  something  ultra-exciting.  It  makes 
one's  hair  stand  upon  both  ends. 

There  is  the  whaleboat,  the  men  sitting  motionless 
in  their  seats,  the  long  oars  apeak,  shooting  through 
the  water,  towed  by  the  whale  unseen  underneath  the 


surface.  Sometimes  two  or  three  boats  liitoli  on,  for 
the  more  tlie  wliale  has  to  drag-  the  sooner  he  becomes 
exhausted.  Now  the}-  haul  in  on  him  and  carefully 
coil  the  wet  line  in  the  tubs.  Closer  and  closer  they 
near  him,  the  passag-e  of  the  great  mass  under  water 
being"  marked  by  swirls  and  eddies  on  the  surface. 
Our  herculean  king,  "  Black  Jake,"  is  at  the  bow,  the 
round,  razor-edged,  long-handled  lance  lying  b^^  him, 
his  back  to  the  crew,  his  eye  on  tlie  eddies,  his  great 
bare  black  arms,  now  the  right,  now  the  left — moving 
first  in  one  direction,  then  another,  as  thus  he  signals 
to  the  steersman  the  direction  in  which  to  keep  the 
boat's  head;  for  although  we  are  being  towed  as  a 
tug  would  tow  a  skill,  we  must  be  kept  as  near  as 
possible  in  a  line  with  the  submerged  motive  power, 
and  then,  with  a  swash  and  snort,  out  of  the  water  six 
feet  ahead  comes  twenty,  may  be  forty  feet  of  that 
great  black  mass!  It  is  astonishing  how  much  there 
is  of  him.  And  he  is  down  and  under,  with  his  great 
gulp  of  air,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  or  even 
speak  these  last  twenty  words,  but  not  before  the 
lance  is  out  of  Jake's  hands,  driven  tliree  feet  into  his 
side,  and  hauled  aboard  again  by  the  light,  strong  line 
attached.  Suddenly  the  whale  line  slacks.  The  boat 
ceases  its  rush  through  the  water.  The  eddy  and  swirl 
ahead  cease.  Now  look  out  for  squalls.  This  is  one 
of  Mrg.  Grayback's  peculiar  tricks.  She  is  ambushed 
somewhere  below.  She  designs  coming  up  under  the 
boat's  bottom,  and  constituting  herself  into  a  subma- 
rine island  of  flesh,  bobbing  up  like  a  released  cork. 
She  is  resolving  herself  into  a  submarine  earthquake, 
and  proposes  to  send  that  boat  and  crew  ten  feet  into 
the  air,  or  capsizing  them  off  her  India-rubber  back. 


78 

One  hundred  or  five  hundred  tons  of  wicked  intelhgvnce 
is  thus  g-roping-  about  in  tlie  unseen  depths  for  the  pur- 
pose of  attaining-  the  proper  position,  and,  as  it  were, 
exploding  herself  like  an  animated  torpedo.  Every 
seat  in  the  boat  is  an  anxious  seat.  There  is  no  talk- 
ing, but  a  great  deal  of  unpleasant  anticipation.  Those 
who  have  seen  the  thing  done  before,  await  in  dread 
suspense  the  shock  and  upset.  It's  ver^^  much  like 
being  over  a  powder-magazine  about  to  explode.  To 
keep  up  the  interest;  let  us  leave  his  particular  boat 
and  situation  in  statu  quo.  Your  imagination  may 
complete  the  catastrophe  or  not,  as  you  choose.  Final 
consummations  are  not  desirable  in  a  thrilling  tale, 
and  this  tale  is  meant  to  be  thrilling-.  Therefore,  if 
you've  got  a  thrill  in  you,  please  thrill. 

From  the  schooner's  deck,  a  mile  and  a  half  awa^^. 
Captain,  cook,  and  cooper — the  head,  tail,  and  midriff 
of  the  ship's  company — Ave  perceive  that  the  white 
puff  of  spra}^  from  the  whale's  blowholes  has  changed 
to  a  darker  color.  "Spouting  blood,"  we  remark. 
The  boat  is  l^^ing  quite  near  b^^  At  intervals  of  a  few 
minutes  a  circular  streak  of  Whitewater  is  seen  break- 
ing the  smooth  surface  of  the  lagoon.  He's  in  his 
"flurr3^"  He  is  d^^ing.  It  is  a  might}^  death,  a  won- 
derful escape  of  vitality  and  jiower,  affection,  and  in- 
telligence, too,  and  all  from  the  mere  pin's  pi-ick  of  an 
implement  in  the  hands  of  yon  meddlesome,  cruel,  au- 
dacious, greed3^,  unfeeling-  pigmies.  Spouting  blood, 
bleeding  its  huge  life  away,  shivering  in  great  convul- 
sions, means  only  for  us  forty  barrels  more  of  grease, 
and  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds  of  bone  to  manufac- 
ture death-dealing,  rib-compressing,  liver-squeezing 
corsets  from.     And  all  the  while  the  calf  lingers  by  the 


79 

dying-  mother's  side,  wondering-  what  it  is  all  about. 
Dead  and  with  laborious  stroke  towed  to  the  vessel, 
the  calf  swims  in  its  Avake.  Made  fast  along-side,  its 
beautifully  symmetrical  bulk  tapering-  from  head  to 
tail  in  lines  which  man  copies  in  the  mould  of  his  finest 
yachts,  the  body  remains  all  nig-ht,  and  in  the  still 
hours  of  the  "anchor  watch''  we  can  hear  the  feeble 
"  blow  "  of  the  poor  calf,  as  it  swims  to  and  fro. 

In  the  morning-  the  mass  wiiich  last  nig-ht  was  but 
a  couple  of  feet  out  of  water,  has  swollen  and  risen 
almost  to  the  level  of  the  low  bulwark's  top,  while  the 
g-as  g-enerated  b}'  the  decomposition  within  escapes 
from  each  lance  puncture  with  a  faint  sizzle.  With 
the  earliest  hg-ht  the  crew  are  at  work.  Skin  and 
fat  are  torn  off  in  g-reat  strips  and  hoisted  on  board. 
Round  and  round  the  carcass  is  slowly  turned,  with 
each  turn  another  coil  of  blubber  is  unwound  and  cut 
off.  The  sharks  are  bus}^  too.  Monsters  (I  use  the 
term  "monsters"  merely  for  the  sake  of  euphony,  not 
liking-  to  repeat  the  word  "shai-k"  so  often)  fifteen 
and  eig-hteen  feet  long-  rush  up  to  the  carcass,  tear  off 
great  pieces  of  the  beefy-looking-  flesh  and  then  quar- 
rel with  each  other  for  its  possession,  flirting-  the  water 
with  nose  and  fin,  and  getting-  occasionally-  a  gash 
from  a  sharp  whale-spade  which  would  take  a  man's 
head  off.  Amid  all  this,  men  shouting,  swearing,  sing- 
ing, the  windlass  clanking,  fires  under  the  try-pots 
blazing,  black  smoke  whirling  off  in  clouds,  sharks 
grabbing  and  fighting  and  being  fought,  the  moth<M- 
less  calf  still  swims  about  the  mutilated  carcass,  and 
when  cast  adrift,  a  whity-yellowish  mass  of  cari-ion, 
swept  hither  and  thither  by  wind  and  tide,  it  still  keeps 
it  company  until  dead  of  starvation  or  mercifully  de- 


80 

voured  by  the  "monsters."  Madame,  every  bone  in 
your  corset  gToans  with  the  guilt  of  this  double  mur- 
der. 

After  a  whale  had  been  "  cut  in/'  or  stripped  of  his 
blubber,  an  operation  somewhat  resembling-  the  un- 
winding of  a  lot  of  tape  from  a  long  bobbin,  the  whale 
answering  for  the  bobbin  as  he  is  turned  round  and 
round  in  the  water,  and  the  blubber  for  the  tape  as  it 
is  windlassed  off,  the  whity -yellowish,  skin- stripped 
carcass  was  then  cast  adrift,  and  it  floated  and  swelled 
and  smelled.  Day  after  day  it  swelled  bigger  and 
smelled  big'ger.  It  rose  out  of  the  water  like  an  enor- 
mous bladder.  It  would  pass  us  in  the  morning  with 
the  ebb  tide  and  come  back  with  the  flood.  A  coal-oil 
refinery  was  a  cologne  factory  compared  to  it.  Some- 
times two  or  three  of  these  gigantic  masses  would  be 
floating  to  and  fro  about  us  at  once.  Sometimes  one 
would  be  carried  against  our  bows  and  lodge  there,  the 
rotten  mass  l^^ing  high  out  of  the  water,  oozing  and 
pressing"  over  our  low  bulwarks  on  deck.  We  had  a 
fight  with  one  of  these  carcasses  for  half  an  afternoon 
trying  to  pry  it  off  with  poles,  oars,  and  handspikes. 
It  was  an  unfavorable  mass  to  pry  against.  Of  course 
it  smelt.  For  a  dead  mass  it  Avas  extremely  lively  in 
this  respect.  There  are  no  words  in  which  to  describe 
a  powerful  smell  so  closely"  as  to  bring  it  to  the  ap- 
preciation of  the  senses.  It  is  fortunate  there  are 
none,  for  some  talented  idiot  to  make  his  work  smell 
and  sell  would  be  certain  to  use  them.  The  gulls 
used  to  navigate  these  carcasses  on  their  regular 
trips  up  and  down  the  lagoons.  They  served  these 
birds  as  a  sort  of  edible  ferryboat.  You  might  see 
forty  or  fifty  feeding  and  sailing  on  a  single  carcass. 


81 

But  they  seemed  downcast — the  dead  whale  was  too 
iiiiich  for  them.  Not  that  they  ever  got  full  of  the 
carrion,  but  the}'  exhausted  themselves  in  the  effort. 
The  supply  was  unlmiited;  ditto  the  void  within  the 
^uU,  but  there  were  limits  to  his  strength. 


82 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OUR   BUTTER    FIENDS. 

In  former  clays  while  narrating-  the  events  of  this 
vo3^ag'e,  which  I  have  done  some  thousands  of  times, 
I  used  to  say  "  we  whaled."  But  I  never  whaled, 
never  went  in  the  boats,  never  pulled  an  oar.  I  had 
other  fish  to  fry  in  the  g-alle^-,  and  now  that  I 
commence  to  realize  what  a  conscience  is,  I  mention 
this  for  truth's  sake  as  well  as  to  give  variety  to 
the  story.  We  were  boarded  occasionally  by  a  few 
Mexicans.  There  was  one  melanchol^Mooking  Don 
Somebody  who  seemed  alwa^^s  in  a  chronic  state  of 
corn-husk  cigarette.  When  not  smoking  he  was  roll- 
ing them;  when  not  rolling  or  smoking  he  was  light- 
ing them.  He  and  his  companions  were  persons  of 
some  importance,  for  Avhich  reason  Captain  Reynolds 
tendered  them  the  hospitalities  of  the  Henry  and  would 
ask  them  to  whatever  meal  was  nearest  ready.  These 
two  Mexicans  had  enormous  stowage  for  grub.  They 
resembled  the  gulls.  They  also  seemed  unfathoma- 
ble. There  was  no  filling  them.  What  they  did  at 
table  they  did  with  all  their  might,  and  when  th^y  fin- 
ished, especially  when  eating  by  themselves,  as  they 
frequently  did,  there  was  literally  nothing  left.  "  Noth- 
ing" in  this  case  meant  something.  It  meant  in  addi- 
tion to  bread,  meat,  and  potatoes,  every  scrap  of  butter 
on  the  butter-plate  and  every  grain  of  sugar  in  the 


83 

su^ar-bowl.  I  didn't  take  the  hint  the  first  time  they 
ate  with  us,  deeming"  the  entire  absence  of  butter  and 
sug-ar  at  the  end  of  the  repast  to  be  owing-  to  my  plac- 
i!ig  a  small  amount  on  the  table.  The  second  time 
l  hey  came  on  board  I  remedied  this.  But  on  inspection 
alter  theN'  had  finished  I  found  left  only  an  empty  but- 
ter-plate and  sugar-bowl.  It  was  so  at  the  third  trial. 
Butter  and  sugar  seem  to  be  regarded  as  delicacies  by 
the  natives  of  Lower  California.  Nor  do  they  seem  to 
comprehend  the  real  mission  and  import  of  butter  and 
sugar  on  the  table.  The^^  regarded  both  these  articles 
as  regular  dishes  and  scooped  them  in.  On  discover- 
ing this,  after  a  consultation  Avitli  the  Captain,  I  put 
them  on  allowance.  Tliesetwo  men  would  have  eaten 
u})  all  our  butter  and  sugar  in  four  weeks. 

However  it  was  comparatively  a  slight  toll  they 
levied  on  us  for  carrying  off  their  whale-oil,  seal  and 
abalone.  We  were  miles  within  their  legal  boundaries 
taking  away  the  wealth  of  their  waters.  Twelve  other 
American  whalers  lay  in  Marguerita  Bay  that  season. 
It  was  practically  an  invasion;  only  the  Mexicans 
didn't  seem  to  know  they  were  invaded  or  didn't  care 
if  th<\v  did  know.  So  long  as  they  had  plenty  of  but- 
ter and  sugar  on  coming  on  board  and  the  blubber- 
stripped  carcasses  which  came  on  shore  they  seemed 
satisfied.  These  carcasses  they  cut  open  v.iien  stranded 
and  extracted  the  fat  about  the  heart,  which  on  being 
tried  out  would  yield  from  one  to  four  barrels  of  oil 
and  about  three  miles  of  solid  stencli.  Tlie3'  borrowed 
from  us  the  vessels  wherewith  to  boil  this  fat.  I  was 
ordered  to  loan  them  all  the  pots,  pans,  and  kettles 
which  could  be  spared  from  my  culinary  laboratory. 
They  never  returned  them,  and  I  was  very  glad  they 


84 

did  not.  No  amount  of  scoiunng  would  ever  have  rid 
them  of  the  odor  of  decomposed  leviathan.  We  left 
them  a  dozen  or  so  iron  vessels  the  richer.  A  Mexican, 
at  least  on  that  coast,  with  a  kettle  is  looked  up  to  as  a 
man  of  wealth.  Beyond  scrapes,  cig-arette-Ug-hters, 
saddles  and  bridles,  the  gang-  of  natives  on  shore  had 
few  other  possessions.  They  seemed  brilliant  exam- 
ples of  contented  poverty.  The  individual  Mexican  is 
a  more  independent  being  than  the  citizen  of  our  own 
boasted  "independent"  nation.  His  wants  are  ten 
times  less.  Consequently,  he  is  ten  times  as  independ- 
ent. Parties  who  use  horses'  skulls  for  parlor  chairs, 
whose  wooden  bowl  wherein  they  mix  Hour  for  tortil- 
las, flint,  steel,  and  a  small  bonfire  constitute  their  en- 
tire kitchen  range,  won't  keep  many  furniture  or  stove 
manufacturers  alive. 

Some  mercantile  hopes  ma^^  hang  on  the  seiioras  and 
sefioritas.  The  few  we  saw  wanted  calicoes  of  g-ay 
and  diverse  patterns.  The  men  will  eat  butter  and 
sugar,  but  whether  they  will  buy  these  articles  re- 
mains to  be  proved.  Perhaps  furniture  sets  of  polished 
and  painted  horses'  skulls  might  tempt  some  of  the 
more  aesthetic  in  the  matter  of  household  adornment 
to  purchase,  if  put  at  a  reasonable  rate.  Such  are  tlie 
conclusions  drawn  regarding  the  probabilities  of  trade 
with  Mexico,  at  least  the  frag-ment  of  Mexico  I  saw 
from  my  galley.  If  we  wanted  an}'  service  of  them 
they  talked  dollars  at  a  very  high  figure.  But  they 
never  abated.  They  showed  no  anxiet}^  to  tempt  a 
bargain  or  an  engagement.  They  went  on  just  as  ever, 
full  to  the  brim  of  genuine  sang-froid,  eternally  roll- 
ing, lighting,  and  smoking  their  cigarettes,  and  look- 
ing as  if  thej  felt  themselves  a  superior  race,  and  knew 


85 

it  all,  and  didn't  want  to  know  an}-  more,  until  we 
asked  theni  to  eat.  Then  they  seemed  in  no  hurry, 
but  clambered  lazily  down  the  cabin  stairs  and  lazd3^ 
set  to  work  to  find  the  bottom  of  every  dish  on  the 
table,  including-  the  sugar-dish  and  butter-plate.  I 
learned  on  that  voyage  the  true  sigriificabion  of  the 
term  ''  greaser,"  as  I  fearfully  noted  the  rapidly  dimin- 
ishing butter  keg". 


86 


CHAPTER  X. 

GUADALUPE. 

Two  hundred  miles  from  the  Lower  Cahfornia  coast 
lies  the  lone  island  of  Guadalupe.  Guadalupe  is  one 
of  the  twelve  or  twenty  names  which  for  centuries  the 
Spaniards  have  heen  applying-  to  the  various  geograph- 
ical divisions  of  the  earth's  surface.  Each  Spanish  nav- 
igator, explorer,  and  discoverer,  armed  with  these 
twelve  or  twent^^  "  San  Joses,'^  "  Santa  Marias,"  "  Sac- 
ramentos,"  etc.,  has  gone  on  naming,  taking  each  one 
in  regular  order,  and  as  the  list  was  exhausted  and 
more  islands,  capes,  etc.,  were  found,  starting  again 
at  the  beginning  of  the  list  and  using  it  all  over  again. 
Whitney  talked  of  the  plentifulness  of  sea-elephant 
on  theGuadelupe  beaches;  I  presume  the  sea -elephant 
is  identical  with  the  sea-lion.  They  resemble  a  lion 
about  as  much  as  an  elephant.  So  the  prow  of  the 
Henry  was  turned  toward  Guadalupe.  While  on  this 
trip  one  morning  before  da^^light  I  heard  at  intervals 
a  strange  noise,  something  between  a  bellow  and  a 
creak.  I  thought  it  at  first  the  creaking  of  something 
aloft,  but  as  it  grew  lighter  I  saw  a  strange-looking 
head  emerge  momentarily  from  the  water.  It  gave 
forth  the  same  cry,  dove,  and  came  uj)  on  the  other 
side  of  the  vessel.  It  Avas  a  seal  pup,  which  the  sailors 
said  had  lost  its  mother  and  followed  the  vessel,  mis- 
taking the  hull  for  its  maternal  parent.     I  presume 


87 

that  seals  have  no  recog-nized  fathers  to  look  after 
them.  The  poor  thing-,  uttering-  its  plaintive  hut  dis- 
cordant cry,  must  have  followed  us  to  sea  fort3'  or  fifty 
miles.  I  know  not  whether  the  sailors'  explanation  of 
its  conduct  he  correct.  Any \va3%  it  makes  the  occur- 
rence more  pathetic,  and  were  I  utterly  unprincipled  I 
should  make  an  entire  chapter  describing  how  this  pup 
seal  followed  the  Henry  during  the  xoj^gQ  like  a  dog, 
being  regularly  fed,  and  as  it  grew  up  came  on  board 
and  was  taught  a  number  of  accomplishments,  amon^ 
the  rest  that  of  supplying  us  with  fish.  'Tis  thus  that 
a  rigid  adherence  to  veracity  spoils  many  an  interest- 
ing and  thrilling  tale,  and  brings  to  him  who  practises 
it  more  poverty  than  pence. 

Guadalupe  on  the  third  day  came  in  sight;  a  lone, 
wave-washed,  wind-swept  isle  about  forty  miles  in 
length.  It  seemed  the  very  embodiment  of  loneliness. 
Some  would  also  say  of  desolation,  as  man  is  ever  dis- 
posed to  call  any  place  he  does  not  inhabit.  But 
though  Guadalupe  contained  not  a  single  representa- 
tive of  the  most  intelligent  animal  on  the  planet,  it 
sustained  great  herds  of  goats,  sea  birds,  and  a  little 
black  and  white  land-bird,  so  tame  and  trustful  as  to 
perch  and  eat  from  Miller's  and  Whitney's  tin  plates 
during  their  former  visit  to  the  island.  AH  these  got 
along  very  well  without  the  presence  of  the  talented 
biped  who  deems  every  place  "  desolate  "  unless  he  is 
there  to  carry  on  a  monopoly  of  all  the  killing  of  bird 
and  animal  deemed  necessary  to  his  comfort  and  exist- 
ence. 

It  was  our  business  to  murder  all  the  mother  sea- 
lions  who  had  established  their  nurseries  at  Guadalupe. 
A  boat  full  of  murderers  was  quickly  sent  on  shore. 


88 

We  did  not  see  boat  or  crew  ag-ain  for  three  d?ays. 
Most  of  that  period  was  spent  by  us  in  looking-  for 
the  boat,  and  by  ithe  boat's  crew  in  looking-  at  us.  They 
landed  on  the  first  day,  found  no  seal,  put  off  at  dusk, 
lost  us  in  a  fog-,  went  ashore,  swore  at  the  Hoinjs 
people  for  not  sighting  them,  hauled  their  boat  well 
up  on  the  beach  at  the  mouth  of  a  deep  can^^on,  supped 
on  hard  bread  and  water,  and,  turning  their  craft  bot- 
tom-up, crawled  under  it  for  a  bed-quilt  and  went  to 
sleep  on  the  sands.  During-  the  night  a  semi-hurricane, 
called  in  those  latitudes  a  "willa  wah,"  came  tearing 
and  howling  down  the  canyon.  Striking-  the  boat,  it 
rolled  it  over  and  over  among-  the  rocks,  smashed  the 
frail  sides,  and  rendered  it  unseaworthy.  For  two  daj^s 
the  crew  roamed  up  and  doAvn  the  island,  living-  on 
shellfish  and  the  fresh  water  left  standing  in  pools,  and 
trying  to  signal  us  by  fires  built  on  the  mountains. 
The  Captain  was  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity  at  this 
disappearance.  But,  having  left  a  portion  of  the  crew 
at  St.  Bartholomew's  Bay,  he  had  not  hands  enough 
to  send  another  boat  ashore,  and  work  the  vessel. 
Then  he  dare  not  come  nearer  tlie  island  than  three 
miles,  fearing-  sunken  rocks  and  currents  setting-  in- 
shore. On  the  third  night  one  of  their  fires  was  seen 
from  the  Heni^ij.  Standing  in  for  it,  by  daylight  the 
missing  men  Avere  seen  making  for  us  in  an  old  yawl. 
Beliind,  full  of  water,  was  towed  the  shattei-ed  whale- 
boat.  The  yawl  had  been  found  on  tlie  beach,  proba- 
bly left  there  by  former  sealers.  By  stuffing  all  the 
clothes  they  could  spare  in  its  sun-wai'ped  ci-.icks  and 
constant  bailing  they  managed  to  keep  afloat  long 
enough  to  reach  us.  They  crawled  on  board — a  pale, 
haggard,  famished  lot — and  I  was  kept  very  busy  for 


89 

a  time  mmistering'  to  their  wants.  They  ate  steadil3' 
for  an  hour.  Even  with  this  rescue  a  greater  catas- 
trophe than  all  came  near  happening.  Becalmed  and 
b}^  means  of  a  treacherous  current  we  were  being"  rap- 
idly carried  toward  an  enormous  rock,  which  towered 
sentinel-like  alone  a  mile  or  more  from  the  north  end 
of  the  island.  It  reached  full  five  hundred  feet  toward 
the  clouds.  Its  perpendicular  sides  seemed  built  up 
in  artificial  la^^ers.  Toward  this  the  Henry  seemed 
helplessly  drifting,  and  the  "  Old  Man,"  under  the  in- 
fluence of  combined  anger  and  despair,  jumped  up  and 
down  in  his  tracks  and  howled  on  the  quarter-deck  as 
he  saw  the  voyage  approaching  such  an  unfortunate 
termination.  Fortunately  a  providential  or  accidental 
breeze  came  off  the  land  just  in  time  to  give  us  steer- 
age-way. We  trifled  no  more  with  Guadelupe,  but 
sailed  straight  away  for  our  old  harbor.  As  we  passed 
the  last  of  these  towering  sentinel  rocks  at  dusk,  we 
heard  from  them  the  howling  and  barking  of  what, 
judged  by  the  sound,  might  have  been  ten  thousand 
seals.  It  was  as  the  roaring  of  a  dozen  combined 
menageries.  Had  Virgil  of  old  ever  sailed  by  such  a 
soimd,  he  would  have  pulled  out  his  stylus  forthwith, 
and  written  of  the  ^neid  an  extra  chapter  about  some 
classical  hell  afloat.  These  seals  were  howling  at  our 
discomflture.  The  rock  was  half  veiled  in  a  mist  in 
which  we  could  indistinctly  see  their  countless  forms 
seeminirlv  writhinir  and  tumblin"-  about. 


90 


CHAPTER  XL 

AT  THE  GOLD    MINES. 

After  a  ten  months'  cruise  we  went  back  to  San 
Francisco  with  500  barrels  of  oil  and  ten  tons  of  aba- 
lones.  My  share  of  the  proceeds  amounted  to  $250, 
having"  shipped  on  a  "  lay.''  Mine  was  the  fifteenth  la3% 
which  g'ave  me  one  barrel  of  oil  out  of  every  fifty  and 
a  similar  proportion  in  abalones.  Then  I  looked 
around  for  something'  to  do,  didn't  find  it,  spent  a 
g-reat  deal  of  my  money  unnecessarily^  in  so  looking  for 
a  job,  shipped  at  last  as  cook  on  a  coasting"  schooner, 
was  discharged  before  she  left  the  wharf,  my  g"rade 
of  culinar^^  work  not  reaching"  to  the  level  of  the  cap- 
tain's refined  taste. 

I  resolved  to  g"o  to  the  mines.  I  went.  By  boat  and 
stag'e,  I  g"ot  over  the  two  hundred  miles  intervening" 
'twixt  San  Francisco  and  the  ''dig"g"ing"S."  I  had  friends 
on  Hawkins'  Bar  on  the  Tuolumne  River  in  Tuolumne 
County.  Thither  I  went.  When  I "  struck  "  Hawkins' 
in  1858,  it  was  on  its  last  leg's.  Still  it  boasted  a  store 
and  a  dozen  houses.  Golden  hopes  were  still  anchored 
in  the  bed  of  the  river.  Expensive  river  claims  were 
then  being"  worked  from  Red  Mountain  down  to  French 
Bar.  But  a  premature  rain  and  consequent  freshet 
swept  the  river  that  season  from  end  to  end  Avith  the 
bosom  of  destruction,  and  sent  for  the  winter  the 
miners  back  to  their  two  dollar  per  day  banlv  dig"g"ing"S. 


91 

And  from  that  time  henceforward  the  Bar  steadily 
decUned.  The  store  was  kept  open  for  two  seasons 
with  g-reat  loss  to  its  proprietor.  He  was  a  new  man. 
When  he  came  to  the  Bar  the  "boys  "  held  a  consulta- 
tion on  a  h\g  drift  log\  They  concluded  they  could  go 
throug-h  him  in  one  season,  provided  he  gave  credit. 
But  he  was  a  discriminating  man  as  regarded  g-iving- 
credit.  So  it  required  two  seasons  to  g.et  through 
him.  Then  he  moved  away  forever,  and  with  tears  in 
his  eyes  at  his  losses.  The  Bar  ling-ered  on  for  several 
years.  Steadily  it  lessened  in  houses  and  population. 
The  store  was  torn  down  and  the  lumber  carted  away. 
In  18G4  I  made  a  pilgrimag"e  thither  and  found  remain- 
ing one  house  and  one  man.  That  man  was  Smith. 
Alex.  Smith,  a  '49er,  a  Baltimoreau  and  a  soldier  during 
the  Mexican  war.  Smith's  house  was  high  up  on  the 
hillside  and  his  back  yard  broug-ht  up  against  the 
camp  graveyard.  A  score  of  Smith's  old  companions 
there  lay  buried.  And  here  this  man  lived  alone  with 
the  dead  and  the  memories  of  tlie  last  eighteen  years. 
I  said  to  him:  "Smith,  how  do  you  stand  it  here  ?  Do 
you  never  get  lonesome  ?  " 

"Well,  yes;  once  in  a  while  I  do,"  replied  Smith; 
"but  when  I  feel  that  way  I  go  up  the  hill  and  bring- 
down a  log  for  firewood.'' 

Smith  was  a  philosopher,  and  thought  that  the  best 
remedy  for  melancholy  is  physical  exertion. 

Smith  was  one  of  the  first  settlers  at  Hawkins' Bar,- 
Smith  could  remember  when  it  contained  a  voting* 
population  of  nearly  eight  hundred  souls;  Smith  knew 
every  point  on  the  river  which  had  yielded  richly; 
Smith  could  show  you  Gawley's  Point,  where  Gawley 
pitched  his  tent  in  '49  and  buried  under  it  his  pickle 


jars  full  of  g-old  dust.  The  tradition  of  Hawkins  was 
that  Gawley  used  to  keep  a  barrel  of  whiske^^  on  free 
tap  in  his  tent.  And  that  in  the  fall  of  1850  Gawley, 
warned  hy  the  experience  of  the  previous  rainy  season, 
determined  to  lay  in  a  winter's  stock  of  provisions. 
But  Gawley's  ideas  as  to  the  proper  cxuantities  of  food 
were  vag-ue.  He  had  never  before  been  a  purveyor  or 
provider  on  a  larger  scale  than  that  of  buyin.^- a  week's 
"  gTub  "  at  the  Bar  store.  He  went  to  the  trader  and 
told  him  what  he  wanted.  "Make  out  your  order," 
said  the  merchant.  Gawley  g-ave  it  to  him  verbally. 
"  I  guess,''  said  he, "  I'll  have  a  sack  of  flour,  ten  pounds 
of  bacon,  ten  of  sugar,  five  of  coffee,  three  of  tea,  a  peck 
of  beans,  a  bag  of  salt  and — and — a  barrel  of  whiskey!  " 
In  1870  I  made  another  pilgrimage  to  Hawkins'  Bar. 
Smith  was  gone.  Nobody  lived  there.  "  The  fence  of 
the  camp  graveyard  w^as  broken  down.  The  Avooden 
headboards  were  lying  prone  to  the  earth.  Some 
were  split  in  two  and  most  of  the  inscriptions  were 
being  rapid  1^^  erased  through  the  action  of  the  sun  and 
rain.  But  one  house  Avas  standing.  It  Avas  the  cabin 
Avherein  had  lived  one  Morgan  DaAis,  the  former  cus- 
todian of  the  Hawkins'  Bar  library.  For  as  early  as 
1854  or  '55  the  Hawkins'  Bar  "  bo^^s  "  had  clubbed  their 
funds,  sent  doAvn  to  San  Francisco  and  there  pur- 
chased a  A'ery  respectable  librar^^  It  Avasa  good  solid 
library,  too,  leased  on  a  full  set  of  American  Encj^clo- 
pedias  and  Humboldt  and  Lyell,  and  from  such  and 
the  like  dispensers  of  heaA-y  and  nutritious  mental  food, 
rising  into  tlie  lighter  desserts  of  poetry  and  novels. 
As  late  as  1858  the  "boys"  AA^ere  in  the  hal)it  of  re- 
plenishing their  library-  Avith  the  latest  published  sci- 
entific works,  noA'els,  and  magazines. 


03 

But  in  'TO,  on  my  last  visit,  tlie  library  was  gone. 
Morgan  was  dead.  His  cabin  door  had  fallen  from  its 
hinges;  a  young-  oak  tree  had  sprung  up  and  blocked 
the  entrance.  The  flooring  had  been  torn  up.  The 
window  sashes  had  been  taken  out.  A  dinner-pot  and 
bioken  stove  were  all  that  remaniedof  Moj'gan's cook- 
ing utensils.  Some  of  the  roofing  had  disappeared.  It 
was  a  ghostly  place.  The  trails  leading  to  and  from 
the  Bar  were  fading  out.  Here,  they  were  overgrown 
with  brush.  There,  the  river  in  some  higher  rise  had 
swept  away  the  lower  bank  and  left  nought  but  aeon-- 
fusion  of  rough  rock  over  which  was  no  semblance  of 
a  track.  It  was  at  Hawkins  that  I  had  first  "  buckled 
to  the  mines."  My  first  "  buckling,"  however,  was  in 
the  capacity  of  a  meat  peddler.  I  became  the  agent 
of  a  firm  of  butchers  up  on  the  mountain  for  distribut- 
ing" their  tough  steaks  to  the  HaAvkins'  Bar  miners. 
Through  the  instrumentality  of  a  horse,  over  whose 
back  was  slung  a  couple  of  huge  panniers,  I  continued 
the  agency  for  a  week.  Then  one  morning  the  horse 
kicked  up  his  heels  and  ran  away.  As  he  ran,  at  every 
kick  a  raw  and  bloody  steak  would  fly  out  of  the  boxes, 
flash  in  the  brilliant  morning  sunshine,  and  then  fall 
in  the  fine  red  dust  of  the  mountain  trail.  I  followed 
hard  after,  gathering  up  these  steaks  as  they  fell,  and 
when  the  burden  became  too  heavy  I  piled  them  up  by 
the  roadside  in  little  heaps  of  dusty,  very  dusty  meat. 
At  last,  dusty,  perspiring  and  distressed  be3'ond 
measure,  I  managed  to  catch  that  villainous  horse. 
For  he,  after  having  ejected  nearly  the  whole  load  of 
meat,  concluded  to  stop  and  be  caught.  I  loaded  the 
panniers  again  with  the  dusty,  carnivorous  deposits, 
led  the  horse  down  the  steep  trail  to  the  river,  then 


94 

mudd}^  and  of  a  rich  coffee-color  from  up  country  min- 
ing- sediment.  Herein  I  washed  mj^  steaks,  rinsed 
them  as  well  as  I  could  of  dust,  and,  as  was  then  the 
custom,  hung  up  piece  after  piece  in  the  gauze-cur- 
tained meat-safes  at  the  miners'  cabins.  I  think  Haw- 
kins' got  its  share  of  grit  that  day  in  its  beef.  Shortly 
afterwartl  I  went  out  of  the  beefsteak-distributing 
bureau. 

Then  I  went  into  the  service  of  the  man  who  kept 
the  Bar  store,  saloon,  and  boarding-house.  I  was  er- 
rand bo3",  barkeeper,  bookkeeper,  woodchopper,  as- 
sistant cook  and  g-eneral  maid  of  all  work,  and  possi- 
bly Avorthlcssness.  One  day  the  storekeeper's  horse, 
packed  with  miners'  supi3lies,  was  given  into  ni}^  charge 
to  lead  three  miles  up  the  river  to  the  camp  of  the 
Split-Rock  River  claim.  The  load  was  strapped  to  a 
"cross-jack"  saddle.  It  consisted  mostly  of  flour,  po- 
tatoes, bacon  and  a  demijohn  of  whiske3\  I  was  ad- 
vised by  the  merchant,  on  setting  out,  not  to  let  that 
horse  get  ahead  of  me.  If  he  did  it  was  prophesised 
that  he  would  run  away,  "sure  pop."  But  I  had  not 
gone  forty  rods  from  the  store  Avhen  the  beast  made 
a  rush,  got  ahead  of  me,  tore  the  leading  halter  out  of 
jjiy  grasp  and  set  off  along-  the  narrow  mountain  trail 
at  the  rate  of  twenty  knots  per  hour.  I  followed  on  a 
run  of  about  ten  knots  per  hour.  Hence  the  distance 
between  us  soon  increased.  As  he  ran  the  motion 
burst  the  bag  of  flour,  ditto  the  potatoes,  and  then 
the  whiskey  demijohn  broke.  It  was  a  fine  sight.  The 
flour  rose  in  the  air  like  a  white  cloud  above  the 
horse,  out  of  and  above  which  flew  potatoes,  and  the 
whole  was  interspersed  with  jets  of  whiske}^  It  looked 
like  a  snow  scxuall  travelling  on  horseback.     When  the 


95 

animal  had  spilt  all  the  flour,  all  the  potatoes  and  all 
the  whiskey,  he  slowed  up  and  allowed  himself  to  be 
caug-ht.  His  mission  was  accomplished.  I  found  re- 
maining: the  saddle  and  the  empty  potato  sack.  The 
trail  was  white  with  flour  for  a  mile,  and  so  it  remained 
for  months  afterward.  I  led  the  animal  back  to  the 
store.  My  heart  was  heavy  and  his  load  was  light. 
The  store-keeper  gave  me  his  blessing.  I  did  not 
thereafter  long"  remain  in  the  service  of  that  transpor- 
tation bureau. 

After  this  I  borrowed  a  rocker  and  started  to  wash- 
ing some  river-bank  g-ravel.  It  took  me  several  days 
to  become  in  any  degree  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rocker. 
I  had  no  teacher,  and  was  obliged  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  all  its  peculiarities  b3'  myself.  First  I  set  it 
on  a  dead  level.  As  it  had  no  "fall"  the  sand  would 
not  run  out.  But  the  hardest  work  of  all  was  to  dip 
and  pour  water  from  the  dipper  on  the  gravel  in  the 
sieve  with  one  hand  and  rock  the  cradle  with  the 
other.  There  was  a  constant  tendency  on  the  part  of 
the  hand  and  arm  emplo^x'd  in  pouring  to  go  through 
the  motion  of  rocking,  and  vice  versa.  The  hand  and 
arm  that  rocked  were  more  inclined  to  go  through  the 
motion  of  pouring.  I  seemed  cut  up  in  two  individuals, 
between  Avhom  existed  a  troublesome  and  perplexing 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  their  respective  duties  and 
functions.  Such  a  conflict,  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
of  two  difl'erent  minds  inside  of  and  acting  on  one  body, 
shook  it  up  fearfully  and  tore  it  all  to  pieces.  I  was 
as  a  house  divided  against  itself  and  could  not  stand. 
However,  at  last  the  physical  and  mental  elements 
thus  warring  with  each  other  inside  of  me  made  up 
their  ditferences,  and  the  left  hand  rocked  the  cradle 


9G 

peacefully  while  the  rig-ht  hand  poured  harmoniously, 
and  the  result  was  about  81.50  per  day.  Soon  after  I 
fonnd  my  first  mining-  partner.  He  wandered  to  the 
Bar,  a  melancholy -looking  man,  with  three  dogs  accom- 
panying", and  was  always  in  a  chronic  state  of  red  ban- 
dana and  nose-wiping.  He  and  I  joined  forces  and  went 
up  the  river  to  "  crevice  "  among  the  rocks  near  the 
Split  Rock  claim.  He  had  all  the  skill,  all  the  ex- 
perience, and  all  the  dogs,  and  I  all  the  general  igno- 
rance and  incapacity.  I  deemed  it  a  great  advantage 
to  have  thus  secured  a  real  "old  juiner^'  for  a  partner, 
and  felt  that  such  a  man  must  turn  up  gold. 

We  built  ourselves  a  rude  brush  house  on  a  shelf  of 
the  rocky  ledge  in  a  can^^on  whose  sides  sloped  at  an 
angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  Even  this  shelf  was  not 
level.  It  pitched  toward  the  river,  and  there  was  so 
little  of  it  that  during  the  night's  repose  our  legs 
stuck  out  of  the  house-entrance.  We  Avere  obliged  to 
'*  chock  "  all  our  supply  of  provisions  in  their  respect- 
ive packages  to  prevent  them  from  rolling-  out  of  our 
wigwams  over  the  brink  and  into  the  Tuolumne.  If  a 
potato  got  loose  it  ran  like  a  "  thing  possessed  "  over 
the  rocks  and  down  into  the  mudd^^  raging  current. 
We  were  obliged  to  peg  ourselves  at  night  while  sleep- 
ing to  prevent  a  like  catastrophe.  It  was  a  perma- 
nent and  laborious  existence  at  an  angle  of  fort^-five. 
To  stand  erect  for  any  length  of  time  was  very  tire- 
some. More  frequently,  like  Nebuchadnezzar,  we  lived 
on  all  fours.  "  Crevicing- "  did  not  prove  very  profit- 
able. By  day  the  bare  rocks  become  heated  b^^  the 
sun  to  a  blistering  capacity.  With  pick  and  sledge 
and  crowbar  and  bent  bits  of  hoop-iron  we  pried  and 
pounded  and  scraped,  and  scraped  and  pounded  and 


pried  all  the  hot  day  long",  or  else  were  doubled  up  in 
all  sorts  of  back-aching',  back-breaking",  body-tiring" 
positions,  drawing  up  at  arm's-length  from  some 
deeper  "  pothole  "  or  crevice  spoonful  after  spoonful  of 
yellow  mould.  It  did  hold  considerable  gold,  and  heav}- 
gold  too.  But  it  took  so  long  to  get  the  mould.  This 
was  in  the  latter  part  of  September.  The  termination 
of  the  dry  season  was  reached.  The  first  rain  came. 
It  came  at  night.  It  -drizzled  through  our  brush 
house.  It  sent  tin^-  streams  down  the  rocky  moun- 
tain-sides, and  some  of  these  streams  found  their  way 
under  us.  We  had  lain  and  endured  the  rain  from 
above  dripping  on  our  faces  and  wetting  our  clothes. 
In  those  times  one's  day  suit  served  for  a  niglitgown. 
But  when  the  aqueous  enemy  undermined  our  position 
we  had  to  turn  out. 

It  blew  a  gale.  How  the  wind  howled  and  tore  up 
the  canyon!  We  tried  to  kindle  a  fire.  Match  after 
matcli  was  blown  out.  Finally  a  blaze  was  attained. 
Then  the  rains  descended  heavier  than  ever  and  put 
it  out.  The  chief  misery  was,  we  could  not  at  night 
find  our  way  out  of  the  canyon  to  any  place  of  shelter. 
Nor  could  we  walk  at  all  to  keep  warm.  There  was 
"  standing  room  only."  All  about  us  were  the  steeply 
inclined  rocks,  molded  into  every  irregularity  of  shape. 
We  were  obliged  all  through  the  night  to  "stand  and 
take  it"  as  it  came,  shivering  in  our  thin  summer 
clothing.  With  daylight  we  made  our  way  to  the 
camp  of  the  Split  Rockers.  They  gave  us  some  gin. 
It  was  common  g"in — very  common*gin — but  the  com- 
fortable and  soothing  remembrance  of  that  gin  after 
such  a  night  exists  for  me  even  unto  this  day.  I  wore 
a  black  cloth  cap.     The  rain  had  washed  out  the  dye, 


08 

and  this  d^^e  had  coursed  over  my  brow  and  cheeks  in 
tiny  rivulets  of  jet.  I  noticed  that  I  seemed  to  he 
more  than  a  usual  object  of  interest  to  those  about  me, 
and  wondered,  until  a  friend  advised  me  to  consult  a 
mirror.  I  did  so,  and  found  my  face  marked  like  a 
railroad  route  map.  Such  was  my  inauguration  in 
mining-  at  Hawkins'  Bar.  What  glorious  old  times 
they  were !  What  independence !  What  freedom  from 
the  trammels  and  conventionalities  of  fashion!  Who 
cared  or  commented  if  we  did  turn  up  the  bottoms  of 
our  pantaloons,  or  wear,  for  coolness'  sake,  our  flannel 
shirts  outside  the  trousers?  Who  then  was  so  much 
better  than  anybody  else,  when  any  man  might  strike 
it  rich  to-morrow  ?  Who  Avould  beg  for  work  or  truckle 
and  fawn  and  curry  favor  of  an  employer  for  the  mere 
sake  of  retaining  a  situation  and  help  that  same  man 
to  make  mone^^,  when  he  could  shoulder  pick,  shovel, 
and  rocker,  go  down  to  the  river's  edge  and  make  his 
two  or  three  dollars  per  day  ?  Though  even  at  that 
time  this  reputed  three  dollars  was  oftcner  one  dollar 
and  a  half. 

Even  then  reports  of  the  pacing  capacities  of  claims 
were  as  apt  to  be  watered  as  are  stocks  nowadays. 


99 


CHAPTER     XII. 

swett's  bar. 

I  THINK  and  hope  that  these  attempts  of  mine  to 
portray  the  history  of  tlie  camps  on  one  California 
t^old-bearini^  river  will  touch  a  responsive  chord  in  the 
hearts  of  some  old  Californian,  for  the  life  and  inci- 
dent of  the  bars  I  describe  reflect,  in  certain  respects, 
the  life,  history,  and  incident  of  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  places  settled  in  *'  '49,'^  and  perhaps  abandoned 
by  '^^GO,"  which  have  now  no  name  or  place  on  the 
later  maps  of  the  State.  Your  genuine  old  miner 
likes  to  revisit  the  camp  where  first  he  dug-  for  g'old, 
in  thought  if  not  in  person.  It  Avas  no  common  affec- 
tion they  entertained  for  these  places.  If  the  "boys" 
jnoved  away  to  other  dig-g'ing-s,  they  had  always  to 
make  a  yearly  pilgrimage  back,  so  long  as  the  camp 
lasted.  So,  j^early  from  ValJecito,  thirty  miles  dis- 
tant, used  Jake  Yager  to  revisit  Swett's,  and  he 
tramped  the  whole  distance,  too.  What  was  it  that 
so  drew  them  back  ?  Perhaps  the  memory  of  the  new 
and  exciting  life  they  experienced  from  "  '49  "  say  till 
"^38"  or  " 'GO,"  with  its  "  ups  and  downs,"  its  glitter- 
ing surprises  in  the  shape  of  "  strikes,"  its  comrade- 
ship so  soon  developed  among  men  who,  meeting  as 
strangers,  so  soon  found  out  each  other's  better  quali- 
ties, its  freedom  from  the  restraints  of  older  commu- 
nities, its  honest}^  and  plainness  in  the  expression  of 


100 

opinion,  engendered  by  such  freedom ;  all  these  thought 
over  and  over  again  during  absence  brought  about 
that  strong"  desire  to  see  the  old  Bar  ag-ain,  the  scene 
of  so  much  experience  and  private  history.  Then  the 
visitor  alwa^'S  met  a  hearty  welcome.  He  was  an  old 
"  resid enter."  Cabin-owners  contended  for  the  i^lea- 
sure  of  entertaining-  him.  No  wives  or  families  were 
in  the  way.     Conviviality  was  uninterrupted. 

If  a  black  bottle  could  be  produced  it  could  be  Avor- 
shipped  undisturbed  until  long  past  midnight.  And 
such  was  always  produced  on  the  return  of  the  old 
acquaintance.  When  the  "  boys  "  at  last  tumbled  into 
their  bunks  and  smoked  a  night-cap  pipe  abed,  there  was 
no  wife  in  special  charge  of  husband  to  molest  or  make 
them  afraid  or  disturb  their  internal  peace  by  reason 
of  her  near  presence.  Those  were  the  golden  seasons 
of  masculine  domestic  tranquillity  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tuolumne.  AVoman  never  disturbed  the  Bar  proper 
with  her  presence.  It  was.  always  a  masculine  Bar, 
at  least  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river.  On  the  left, 
at  a  later  date,  on  a  flat,  where  I  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  digging  for  next  to  nothing  for  two  years,  thei-e 
did  live  for  a  time  three  foreign  households  glorified 
by  woman's  presence.  But  this  was  after  the  palmy 
days  of  Swett's  Bar  proper  right  bank.  I  have  heard 
that  Svvett's  Bar  was  named  after  John  S^vett,  once 
Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction  in  California.  If 
so,  he  never  there  left  any  relics  or  reminders  of  him- 
self—not even  a  grammar.  Swett's  lies  equidistant 
from  Hawkins'  and  Indian  Bars.  When  last  I  passed 
through  it  the  floods  had  washed  out  every  trace  of 
man's  presence  on  one  side  of  the  river,  leaving  thei'o 
an  enormous  heap  of  logs  and  brush-wood.     The  Bar 


101 

proper  had  been  smoothed  down  by  tlie  flood,  every 
hole  or  boulder  heaj:),  or  heap  of  "headings"  or  "tail- 
in*;-s/'  or  the  deep  pits  dug-  and  laboriouly  kept  free  of 
water  by  machinery,  or  heavily  rock-freighted  crib  of 
logs,  the  work  of  miners  in  the  river's  bed,  had  been 
planed  away.  The  pebbics  and  boulders  had  all  been 
rearranged,  the  sands  were  smooth,  white,  and  glisten- 
ing as  though  "fresh  from  the  Creator's  hands;''  and 
none  save  those  conversant  with  the  river's  histor^^ 
could  have  guessed  that  every  foot  of  the  bank  adjoin- 
ing the  river  had  been  turned  over  and  over  again  in 
the  search  for  gold. 

We  elected  one  member  of  the  Legislature  from 
Swett's.  When  he  left  the  Bar  he  distributed  his 
cabin,  blankets,  and  household  efl'ects  among  the  re- 
maining miners.  He  confidently  thought  never  to 
need  these  articles  again.  That  was  as  great  a  mis- 
calculation as  when  a  Swett's  Bar  or  any  other  bar 
miner  would  resolve  and  swear  violently  that  never 
again  would  he  "  strike  a  pick  "  in  the  river.  We  came 
to  regard  such  an  oath  with  a  superstitious  credulity 
that  he  certainly  would  strike  such  pick  ag*ain,  for 
never  did  such  a  case  occur  in  my  recollection  but  that 
the  mad  resolver  was  back  next  season,  ignoring  his 
vow  and  striking  his  pick  on  some  claim  generally 
poorer  than  the  one  he  worked  the  season  previous. 
So  at  the  end  of  four  months,  after  cumbering  the  law 
books  of  the  State  of  California  with  statutes,  whose 
very  existence  was  forgotten  eight  months  after  their 
passage,  our  Swett's  Bar  legislator  was  seen  one  even- 
ing coming  down  the  hill,  bearing  in  one  hand  two 
whiskey  bottles  tied  together  b3^  one  string — one  being 
empty  and  the  other  full.     "  Silver  and  gold  have  I 


102 

none/'  said  ho,  as  lie  came  to  my  cabin  door,  "but 
what  I  liave  give  I  unto  thee/'  which  he  did.  Next 
day  came  his  trunk.  The  i^rincipal  accession  to  the 
legislative  wardrobe  Avere  three  new  shirts  and  a  bhie 
coat  with  brass  buttons.  That,  tlie  session  I  think  of 
1859,  was  kuc-wn  as  the  "  Legislature  of  ten  thousand 
drinks."  Our  law-maker  said  it  had  been  the  "  Star 
Winter''  of  his  existence,  and  he  never  expected  to 
see  such  another.  Three  days  after  his  arrival  at  the 
Bar  he  borrowed  a  pair  of  blankets,  "cabined  "  with  a 
chum  and  contentedly  resumed  his  pick  and  shovel. 
Did  Cincinattus  do  more  when  he  buckled  once  more 
to  the  plough  ?  But  our  Swett's  Bar  Cincinattus  was 
never  hunted  for  to  save  his  country.  There  were  too 
many  other  country  savers  on  hand,  even  in  our  im- 
mediate localit3\ 

Generally  sp(niking,  Swett's  was  divided  in  two  por- 
tions. There  was  the  old  baron  the  right  bank  of  the 
river,  settled  in  "'49,"  and  there  was  the  flat  on  the 
other  side,  Avhose  golden  store  was  not  discovered  un- 
til 1859.  Attempts  were  made  to  give  this  flat  a  dis- 
tinct name.  Various  settlers  and  miners  craved  the 
immortalit}^  which  they  supposed  might  thus  be  con- 
ferred. For  a  time  it  was  called  "Frazier's  Flat," 
from  a  diabolical  Scotchman  of  that  name  who  lived 
there.  Onl}^  one  of  these  names  would  stick,  and 
finally  ever^-body  settled  down  on  the  okl  appellation, 
"Swett's."  I  do  not  believe  that  John  Swett,  if  he  did 
confer  his  name  on  this  Bar,  ever  realized  the  local 
fame  and  reputation  of  his  name.  When  first  we 
struck  the  diggings  at  Swett's  left  bank,  we  had  great 
expectations.  It  was  a  later  discDver3^,  a  "  back  river 
channel."     Consequent  on  the  discovery  of  pay  ground 


103 

1,000  feet  back  of  the  river,  and  the  definite  fixing-  of 
the   boundary  hnes  between  the  various  claimants, 
there  ensued  the  usual  series  of  disputes,  rows,  bad 
blood,  assaults,   and   threatened   shooting's.     Nobody 
was  shot.     Not  even  a  mining-  law-suit  came  of  it.     A 
local   capitalist  tlirew  a  flume  across  the  river  and 
broug-ht  to  bear  on  tlie  flat  tlie  upland  muddy  water, 
which  came  down  from  Cohimbia  dig-gings,  twenty- 
five  miles  away,  through  Wood's  Creek.     That  flume 
was  being-  talked  of,  being-  planned,  being-  hoped  for  and 
very  gradually  being  erected,  during^  the  years  of  "  '59  " 
and  " 'GO,"  while  the  rest  of  the  nation  was  agitated 
by  "Bleeding-  Kansas,"  *' John    Brown,"    "Squatter 
Sovereig-nty,"    "The    Douglas    Party,"   "The    Little 
Giant  "and  all  that  foreboding-  series  of  watchword 
and   motto   which   preceded    "The   War."      But   the 
Swett's  Bar  mind,  tlie  Swett's  Bar  hope,  the  Swett's 
Bar  expedition,  was  concentrated  principally  on  a  wire 
cable,  two  uprights  on  either  side  of  the  river,  and 
some  400  feet  of  rough  wooden  flume  thereby  sup- 
ported, all  of  which  was  to  bring  us  water  to  wash  out 
the  expected  gold.     At  last  the  suspension  flume  was 
finished.     We  had  water.     We  commenced  washing-. 
The  dirt  did  not  pay  as  we  expected.     We  averaged 
week  in  and  week  out  about  three  dollars  per  day,  and 
one  dollar  of  this  went  for  water  money. 

After  the  suspension  flume  was  finished  and  water 
was  on  the  Flat  our  claim  cleaned  up  for  the  first  week's 
work  about  fifty  dollars  a  piece.  We  used  quicksflver 
plentifully  in  the  sluices;  and  the  amalgam  was  taken 
to  my  cabin  in  a  g-old-pan  and  put  on  the  hot  coals  to 
drive  off  the  mercury,  which  it  did,  and  salivated  the 
four  of  us  besides.     The  sublimated  mineral  covered 


1U4 

walls,  tables  and  chairs  with  a  fine,  frost-like  coating', 
and  on  rubbing"  one's  finger  over  any  surface  a  little 
globule  of  quicksilver  would  roll  up  before  it.  Then 
we  went  to  Chinese  Camp  and  gave  the  doctor  about 
half  our  individual  week's  dividends  to  get  the  mer- 
cury out  of  us.  Three  weeks  of  sore  mouths  and  loos- 
ened teeth  followed  this  intelligent  exposure.  It  was 
tlirough  such  experiences  as  these  that  we  became  in 
California  practical  mineralogists.  However,  it's  an 
easy  Avay  of  taking  "blue  mass."  The  claim  from 
which  great  gains  had  been  expected  eventuality  set- 
tled down  to  an  average  of  two  dollars  and  a  half  to 
three  dollars  per  da.}'.  Break-downs  of  tlie  flume,  fail- 
ure of  water  from  up  country,  very  stormy  weather, 
building  and  repairing  reservoirs,  cutting  tail  races 
through  rock — all  caused  numerous  delays,  and  every 
such  delay  lessened  the  average  per  diem.  It  was 
necessar^^  to  build  reservoirs,  to  store  the  water  for 
washing,  and  these  reservoii^s  broke  with  the  ease  and 
facility'  of  a  Bowery  savings  bank. 


105 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

ONE  day's  digging. 

We  got  out  of  our  blankets  heavil^^  Legs  and  back 
were  apt  to  be  a  little  stltl  in  the  morning.  Or  if  not 
stiff,  they  lacked  action.  Working-  all  the  day  previ- 
ous, possibly  in  the  water,  or  with  it  splashing-  all 
about,  tugging  at  heavy  boulders,  shouldering  wet 
shiices,  to  say  nothing  of  the  regular  pick-and-shovel 
exercise,  would  make  itself  felt  even  when  the  limbs 
and  blood  were  younger  than  now.  Dressmg  was  a 
short  job.  A  pair  of  damp  overalls,  a  pair  of  socks,  a 
pair  of  shoes,  or  possibly  the  heavy  rubber  mining 
boots.  Flannel  shirts  we  slept  in.  A  face-swabbing 
witli  cold  water  in  the  tin  basin  outside  and  a  *'  lick 
and  a  promise  "  for  the  hair  with  the  comb.  That  was 
about  all  for  week  days.  Vanity  of  apparel  there  was 
little  for  the  working  miner.  Who  was  there  to  dress 
for?  Woman?  The  nearest  was  half  a  mile,  fifty 
years  of  age,  and  married.  Then  breakfast.  The  fire 
kindled  in  the  contrary  little  stove.  Possibly  it  was 
necessary  to  attack  with  a  axe  that  dried  old  stump 
near  by  and  hack  off  a  few  chips  to  cook  with.  The 
miner's  wood-pile  was  generally  small.  He  got  in  fuel 
on  rainy  days,  or  at  the  odd  intervals  to  be  spared 
from  work.  You  put  on  the  worn  tin  teapot,  lowered 
the  gauze-covered  meat  safe  from  the  tree,  cut  a  steak 
from  the  chunk  of  bull  mahogany  within  called  beef. 


106 

slung"  a  dab  of  lard  in  tlic  fiying--pan,  put  therein  the 
meat  and  let  it  sizzle.  Two  or  thi'ee  boiled  potatoes 
mig-ht  be  sliced,  fried  more  or  less  brown  in  the  gravy, 
and  this,  with  bread  and  tea,  formed  the  breakfast. 
The  bread  w^as  tlie  bread  of  your  own  laborious  bak- 
ing-, the  loaf  of  an  irreg-ular  shape,  the  crust  very  hard 
and  thick,  the  color  often  "  pied,"  being  black  where  it 
had  burned,  brown  wliere  it  had  baked,  and  of  a  pallid 
whiteness  where  it  had  not  baked  at  all.  Within  the 
loaf  might  be  close,  heavy,  and  in  color  either  a  creamj^ 
or  a  canary  3^ellow,  in  proportion  to  tli(;  improper 
amount  of  yeast  powder  used. 

The  table  is  a  broad  shelf  ag-ainst  the  wall.  There 
is  no  table-cloth.  You  did  not  always  wash  up  after 
breakfast,  for  the  dishes,  as  they  stood,  were  all  in 
place  for  dinner.  Some  fastidious  miners  Avashed 
their  dishes  after  each  meal;  most  of  us  did  not.  It 
was  too  much  to  expect  of  hard-worked  humanity. 
The  cabin  door  is  open  while  you  eat  and  from  it  you 
look  forth  on  the  claim.  There  lies  the  bank  of  red 
earth  as  you  left  it  yesterday  after  the  "  cave."  There 
is  the  reservoir  full  of  coffee-colored  ditch  water  which 
had  run  in  during*  the  night  after  being-  used  for  wash- 
ing- in  a  dozen  claims  "up  country."  Then  you  draw 
on  those  damp,  clammy  rubber  boots,  either  to  the 
knee  or  hip  hig'h,  the  outside  splashed  with  the  dried 
reddish  mud,  and  smelling-  disag-reeably  of  rubber  as 
3^ou  pulled  them  on  a  nd  smelling-  worse  as  you  became 
heated  and  perspiring-.  In  these  you  waddle  to  the 
claim.  I  forgot.  Breakfast  over,  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant acts  of  the  day  was  next  on  the  prog-ramme. 
That  was  the  filling*,  lighting-,  and  smoking*  of  your 
pipe.     Nothing-  could  hurry  youthroug-h  this  perforin- 


107 

aiice.  The  filling'  was  cut  in  slivers  Avith  a  careful  and 
s(3lenin  consideration;  the  Aveed  was  carefull}'  be- 
stowed in  the  bowl;  the  match  was  appUed  with  a  de- 
liberation savoring'  of  a  religious  act;  the  first  puff 
rose  in  the  air  as  incense  to  the  early  morn,  and  smok- 
ing thus  you  waddled  in  your  big  boots  to  the  claim. 
There  you  met  youi'  three  partners,  all  likewise  smok- 
ing. There  they  stand  on  the  bank,  looking  into  tlu^ 
ground-sluice.  There  is  no  "good  morning"  or  other 
gre«»ting;  if  anything,  grunts.  There  lay  the  tools- 
shovels,  picks,  crowbar,  and  sluice-fork— helplessly 
about,  as  left  last  eveniug.  A  little  muddy  water 
trickles  through  the  line  of  sluices.  One  of  us  goes  to 
the  reservoir,  a  few  hundred  yards  oil",  and  turns  on 
the  water.  Another  goes  to  the  tail  of  the  sluices  with 
the  sluice-fork.  Then  is  heard  the  chcking  of  the  pick 
and  the  grating  of  the  shovel  against  the  red  dirt; 
down  comes  the  muddy  water  over  the  bank  and  the 
day's  work  has  fairly  commenced. 

We  stand  in  a  row,  allowing  sufficient  room  between 
each  for  swinging  the  pick.  We  are  undermining  the 
bank,  the  water  running  at  our  feet  and  between  us 
and  the  bottom  of  the  bank.  Each  chunk  of  red  dirt 
dislodged  by  the  pick  falls  into  the  running  water,  and 
if  it  be  hard  and  will  not  readily  dissolve  it  must  be 
broken  up  bA'  pick'  or  shovel  to  k'eep  the  stream  clear 
and  unimpeded.  Tlie  large  boulders  are  picked  out  by 
'  hand  and  thrown  behind  us— not  in  disordered  fashion, 
either.  Room  in  the  cut  is  scaixe  and  must  be  econo- 
mized, so  the  ever-accumulating  bowlder  pile  is  "faced 
up ''with  a  neat  wall,  laid  without  mortar,  but  with 
some  care  and  skill.  The  bed-rock  is  under  our  feet. 
We  are  undermining  the  bank  and  keeping  the  stream 


108 

turned  in  as  much  as  possible  to  the  part  undermined. 
The  g'l-avel  for  a  foot  or  six  inches  is  prett}^  hard  and 
the  stones  here  are  harder  and  closer  packed  than 
those  nearer  the  surface.  There  the  g-ravel  is  lighter. 
Many  of  the  stones  are  light  and  rotten;  a  blow  with 
the  pick  dashes  them  to  pieces.  This  streak  just  above 
the  ledge  and  for  a  few  inches  in  the  crevices  of  the 
ledge  is  our  "  pay  streak,"  where  ages  on  ages  ago 
some  stream  ran,  depositing,  as  all  streams  do,  the 
heavier  gravel  on  the  bottom  and  the  lighter  above. 
Occasionally  the  pick  strikes  a  firmly  embedded  boul- 
der hard  and  square  on  its  i)oint,  in  such  a  way  as  to 
send  the  vibration  like  a  shock  along  the  iron,  up  the 
handle  and  into  one's  arm  and  "  crazy -bone."'  Our 
bank  of  dirt  is  about  eight  feet  in  height.  A  few  inches 
of  the  top  is  a  dark  mould,  below  that  is  three  or  four 
feet  of  "hard-pan,"  below  the  "hard-pan  "  light  sandy 
gravel  and  rotten  boulders,  and  near  the  ledge  is  the 
pa3^  streak.  This  order  of  formation  has  varied  as  we 
have  worked  up  and  into  the  bank.  At  first,  near  the 
river's  edge,  there  was  onl3^  mould  on  a  very  light  allu- 
vial sand.  This  was  readily  washed  off  and  paid  four 
dollars  or  five  dollars  per  day.  A  little  farther  back 
we  struck  the  edge  of  the  red  gravel  streak.  This  for 
a  time  paid  better.  Farther  still  came  the  deposit  of 
light  sandy  gravel,  and  lastly  came  in  the  accursed 
"  hard-pan." 

Our  claim,  on  being  first  prospected,  was  reported 
to  pay  three  cents  to  the  i^an  from  the  top  doAvn. 
We  believed  it  at  first,  not  haAing  learned  that  "three 
cents  to  the  pan  from  the  top  down"  means  the 
biggest  kind  of  luck.  If  you  get  an  aAxrage  of 
half  a  cent  a  pan  from  the  top  doAvn,  and  the  dirt 


109 

would  wash  easily,  we  should  make  monej'.  It  was 
hard  even  for  an  "honest  mmei^'^  to  give  as  the 
result  of  a  prospect  anything-  less  than  "  three  cents 
to  the  pan."  But  "  hard-pan  "  is  our  foe.  "  Hard-pan  " 
is  the  essence  of  brickbats.  Its  consistency  is  about 
that  of  chalk.  It  seems  the  finest  kind  of  sand  cemented 
and  pressed  together.  It  can  be  carved  into  an}^  form 
with  a  knife.  It  takes  as  much  time  to  work  off  a 
square  foot  of  hard-pan  as  ten  square  feet  of  soft 
gravel.  When,  after  half  a  day's  labor,  we  succeed  in 
getting  down  a  cave,  it  goes  into  the  ground-sluice  in 
a  few  great  lumps,  which  must  be  battened  to  pieces 
with  our  picks  before  the  water  will  slowl^^  dissolve 
them  into  mud.  And  it  doesn^t  hold  a  "  color  "  of  gold. 
The  work  in  the  ground-sluice  goes  on  hour  after  hour. 
Pick  and  shovel  and  scrape,  scrape  and  shovel  and  pick, 
the  water  meantime  tumbling  and  roaring  over  the 
bank  and  making  it  difficult  for  us  to  hear  each  others' 
voices.  The  sun  climbs  higher  and  gets  hotter.  The 
water  pail  is  frequently  visited.  The  backs  of  tlie  gray 
shirts  are  wet  with  perspiration.  In  an  easy,  com- 
panionable claim,  where  the  partners  are  all  good  fel- 
lows and  on  good  terms  and  not  too  insane  in  the 
matter  of  getting  an  enormous  quantity  of  dirt  through 
the  sluices  each  day,  there  may  be  more  or  less  brief 
suspensions  from  the  work,  when  all  hands  lean  on 
their  shovels  and  talk  politics,  or  horses,  or  last  night's 
poker  game,  or  have  a  short  service  of  tobacco  smoke, 
with  the  usual  solemn  preliminaries  of  cutting  the  plug 
and  filling  pipes.  But  if  the  majority  of  the  "com- 
pany" are  a  mean,  crabbed,  close-fisted  lot,  the  misery 
goes  on  without  cessation. 

A  queerly  assorted  group  are  we  thus  laboring  to- 


no 

gethcr.  Jack  Gwin's  iiiipc41ing-  liopc  and  life's  idea  is 
to  earn  enoug-li  to  pa^^  his  passag-e  home  to  Philadel- 
phia and  buy  him  a  suit  of  clothes.  A  decent  suit  he 
has  not  owned  these  five  years.  He  Avould  be  the  ter- 
ror and  distress  of  his  relatives  if  ever  he  got  back, 
for  with  him  five  dollars  in  his  pocket  over  expenses 
and  sobriety  are  an  impossibility.  McFadden  dreams 
of  a  cabin,  a  cow,  some  g-eese  and  goats,  a  horse  and  a 
Avife,  and  is  in  a  fair  way  of  realizing  them  all.  He 
saves  most  of  his  earnings,  gets  drunk  wisely  only  on 
holidays,  pays  his  debts  regularly,  hates  the  English, 
lives  in  that  little  black,  brownish  cabin  up  yonder, 
does  all  his  cooking  in  two  tin  pots,  sleeps  in  one  i)air 
of  ancient  blankets  and  a  most  disreputable  bed  quilt, 
and  three  dollars  will  cover  the  cost  of  all  his  domestic 
fitting-s  and  utensils.  Bill  Furnea,  a  French  Canadian, 
has  drifted  here  into  this  hole  in  the  foothills  very 
much  as  he  drifted  into  the  world — without  aim  or  ob- 
ject in  hfe  save  present  enjoyment.  He  is  a  good 
worker  and  works  because  he  was  brought  up  to  it 
and  can't  help  it.  He  is  a  goo<l  boatman,  a  good  log- 
ger, a  skilled  woodcutter,  a  dcAotee  of  poker  and  gen- 
erally^ a  successful  one,  an  entertaining  scamp,  full  of 
wit  and  originality,  quick  to  take  in  the  iDeculiarities 
and  eccentricities  of  others,  something  of  a  dandy,  as 
far  as  dandyism  can  be  indulged  in  this  out-of-bhe-w^ay 
place,  and  a  born  scamp,  glib  of  tongue,  unreliable,  and 
socially  the  best  man  of  the  crowd. 

It  is  near  eleven  o'clock.  There  stands  in  a  cool  cor- 
ner of  the  claim  and  carefully  shielded  from  an^^  stray 
flying  pebble,  a  black  bottle.  It  is  nearl^^  full  of  wiiiskey 
— ver^^  common  corn  whiskey.  It  is  most  welcome  at 
this  hour.     Poison  it  may  be,  but  a  draught  from  the 


Ill 

till  cup  brightens  up  and  niakos  all  thing's  now.  Tiio 
sunshine  is  more  cheerful.  All  Nature  smiles.  The 
picks  descend  with  increased  force  and  a  host  of  new 
day-dreams  start  into  being'.  It  revives  hope.  It 
quenches  despair.  It  gilds  the  monotony  of  our  lives. 
It  was  ever  thus,  and  possibly  ever  shall  be,  woi-ld 
without  end.  It  is  .hig-h  noon.  The  sun  is  over  our 
heads  and  the  shadows  are  at  their  shortest  length. 
One  of  our  number  trudg-es  wearily  up  to  the  reservoir 
to  shut  olF  the  water.  So  soon  as  its  flow  lessens  we 
trudg-e  off  in  wet  overalls  or  heavy  rubbers  to  our  re- 
spective cabins.  We  are  now  ground -sluicing-  at  or 
about  the  year  ISGO,  when  miners  g'enerally  had  aban- 
doned "cabining"''  in  S(iuads  and  each  man  kept  liouse 
hy  himself.  Cause — g-eneral  incompatibility  of  tem- 
per, temperament,  disposition,  and  habit.  The  sober 
miner  found  it  disag-reeable  to  live  permanently  with 
the  spreeing-  miner,  and  the  miner  nice  in  his  domestic 
economy  and  particular  about  his  food  soon  became 
tired  of  a  companion  who  never  aired  his  blankets  and 
didn't  care  whether  his  bread  was  light  or  heav^^ 
sweet  or  sour.  Trudg'ing-  to  our  cabins,  we  pick  up 
the  dried  twigs  in  our  path.  These  are  to  kindle  the 
dinner  fire.  Dinner  is  very  much  like  breakfast,  beef 
or  bacon,  bread,  tea,  dried-apple  sauce.  The  boots  are 
kicked  off  and  thumped  into  a  corner.  The  tempera- 
ture is  up  to  that  notch  that  induces  perspiration  with- 
out any  exertion  at  all  and  the  ug-l}*  little  stove  makes 
it  hotter  still.  We  sit  down  to  the  noon  meal  in  a 
melting-  condition  and  rise  from  it  in  the  same  state. 
Dinner  is  eaten,  the  '-nooning-''  is  over,  back  ag-ain  to 
the  claim,  turn  on  the  Avater,  pick,  shovel,  scrape,  pry, 
toss  back  boulders  and  prop  up  sluices  slipped  from 


112 

tlioir  supports.  Between  two  and  three  o'clock  a 
snowy-vvliite  cloud  rises  over  a  distant  peak  to  the  east- 
ward. It  seems  hke  a  great  bank  of  snow  ag-ainst  the 
blue  sky  and  the  longer  we  look  at  it  the  farther  we 
seem  to  peer  into  its  translucent,  clear-Avhite  depths. 
It  rises  over  that  peak  at  almost  the  same  hour  every 
afternoon  and  is  almost  of  the  sa^me  shape.  It  is  the 
condensed  vapor  of  the  snow  melting  on  the  higher 
Sierra  summits  eighty-six  miles  distant.  It  is  impos- 
ing in  its  silent  imperceptible  rising,  its  wonderful 
whiteness,  its  majesty,  its  distance.  It  seems  a  fit  bed 
of  snow}^  splendor  for  fairies  or  some  sort  of  ethereal 
beings  to  bask  and  revel  in.  It  seems  to  be  looking 
down  half  in  scorn  half  in  pit3^  at  us  four  wear^-,  mis- 
erable worms  of  the  dust,  feebly  pecking  at  a  bit  of 
mother  earth,  muddy,  wet,  and  feebly  squirming  in  and 
about  this  bank  of  dirt. 

At  four  o'clock  there  are  longer  pa  uses  in  our  labors. 
There  is  more  leaning  on  shovels  and  more  frequent 
glances  at  our  timepiece,  the  sun,  as  he  sinks  in  the 
western  heavens.  The  shadow  of  the  hill  opposite 
creeps  slowl}"  down  its  side.  It  is  a  cool,  welcome 
shadow.  The  strongest  worker  secretl^^  welcomes  it. 
Though  he  be  a  "  horse  of  a  man,"  his  muscles  also  feel 
the  effects  of  the  long  day's  labor.  It  is  more  his 
strong  will  than  his  body  which  keeps  him  swinging 
the  pick.  We  are  in  duty  bound  to  work  till  six  o'clock'. 
Everybody  works  till  six  o'clock.  Everybody  is  more 
or  less  tired  at  four  o'clock,  but  it  is  not  the  capacity 
of  the  body  for  labor  that  fixes  the  time.  It  is  custom, 
stupid  custom.  The  gauge  is  the  limit  of  physical 
strength,  not  for  the  weakest,  but  the  strongest.  The 
great,  brawny-armed,  big-boned  Hercules  of  our  com- 


113 

pany  doesn't  feel  it  much.  He  maj^  walk  three  miles 
after  supper  to  the  Bar  store,  play  cards  and  drink 
whiskey  till  nine  o'clock  and  tlien  walk  back  again  and 
be  up  fresh  for  work  next  morning-  by  5 :30  o'clock. 
This  is  ISfiO.  In  1870  he  showed  it,  however,  and  in 
the  marks  of  age  was  ten  years  ahead  of  his  time.  You 
can't  keep  ap  this  sort  of  thing — digging,  tugging, 
lifting,  wet  to  the  skin  day  after  day,  summer  and 
winter,  with  no  interval  of  rest,  but  a  steady  drag- 
twelve  months  of  the  year — without  paying  for  it. 
There's  dissipation  in  the  use  of  muscle  as  well  as  in 
the  use  of  whiskey.  Ever^^  old  miner  knows  it  now  and 
feels  it.  Don't  you  ?  How  does  the  muscle  of  forty- 
five  years  in  18S-J  compare  with  that  of  twenty-five  in 
18G2  ?  Of  course,  man  must  live  by  the  sweat  of  his 
brow,  or  the  sweat  of  his  brain,  but  many  of  you  sweat 
too  long  in  those  days,  and  I  hear  3'ou  all  saying, 
"That's  sol"  Start  anew  the  fire  in  the  little  stove; 
thump  the  wet  boots  in  the  corner;  drag  yourself 
do\\  11  to  the  spring  a  few  hundred  yards  ciistant  for  a 
pail  of  fresh  water;  hack  a  few  more  chips  from  the 
dried  stump;  mix  some  flour,  water,  and  yeast  pow- 
der for  the  day's  baking;  set  down  a  minute  on  your 
flour-barrel  chair  and  look  on  your  earthly  possessions. 
The  worn  and  scarred  trunk  you  brought  years  ago 
from  the  States;  it  holds  your  best  suit  of  a  forgotten 
fashion,  two  or  three  white  shirts,  a  bundle  of  letters 
from  home,  a  few  photographs,  a  Bible,  not  worn  out 
with  use,  a  quartz  crystal,  a  few  gold  "specimens,"  a 
tarantula's  nest,  the  tail  of  a  rattlesnake  and  six  vests. 
Do  you  remember  how  vests  would  accumulate  in 
the  mines  ?  Pants,  coat,  everything  else  would  wear 
out — vests  never. 


114 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  miner's  rainy  DAY. 

No  work  on  tlie  claim  to-da3^  It  rains  too  hard. 
It  is  the  winter  rain  of  California — a  warm,  steady, 
continuous  drizzle.  The  red  earth  is  soft  and  soppy. 
It  mires  to  the  ankles.  The  dark  g-reen  of  the  chap- 
arral on  the  hill  sides  seems  to-day  almost  black.  Tiie 
hue  of  the  river  by  my  cabin  door  is  yellower  than 
ever.  The  water-mark  is  three  feet  higher  than  last 
night  and  it  creeps  upward  everj^  hour.  Over  the 
mountain  crags  yonder  white  sheets  of  foam  are  tum- 
bling" where  none  has  been  seen  before  for  many  months. 
This  is  an  enforced  day  of  rest.  I  have  finished  my 
breakfast  and  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes  in  a  keen 
enjoyment  of  idleness.  There  is  a  ceaseless  patter  of 
raindrops  on  the  cabin  roof.  The  river  roars  louder 
than  ever  over  the  riffle  close  by.  That  roar  is  tlie 
first  sound  I  hear  in  the  morning  and  the  last  at  night. 
It  has  roared  thus  for  me  these  three  years.  In  one 
sense  of  times'  duration  they  seem  as  three  hundred 
years;  in  another,  they  seem  not  much  over  three 
months.  It  is  three  months  when  I  think  only  of  the 
date  of  my  arrival  on  Frazier's  flat.  It  is  three  hun- 
dred years  as  I  attempt  to  recall  the  daily  round  of 
experience  and  thought  since  I  came  here.  Outwardly 
it  has  been  what  many  would  consider  a  monotonous 
experience.    Weeks  have  been  so  much  alike  that  they 


115 

leave  no  disting-uisliing-  marks  in  my  memory.  A  big- 
freshet  or  two,  a  mining-  lawsuit,  an  election,  a  few 
weeks  when  the  claim  "came  clown  riclV  a  fig-ht  at 
the  bar  store,  a  big-ger  spree  than  usual,  a  visit  from 
county  candidates  travelling-  for  votes,  a  giving-  out  of 
ditch  water,  a  break  in  the  reservoir,  a  man  drowned 
in  the  river— these  are  the  g-reat  events  on  Frazitu-'s 
flat. 

I  wonder  how  many  years  more  I  shall  spend  here. 
I  wonder  if  1  must  live  and  die  here.     I  am  no  nearer 
fortune  than  three  years  ag-o,  not  so  near  by  three 
3'ears.     1  seem  more  and  more  chained  down  here  by 
force  of  habit.     I  seem  lit  for  little  else  but  to  dig.     I 
long  to  see  something-  of  the  great  world  beyond  this 
lone  foothill  nook.     Yet  without  money  I  feel  less  and 
less  capable  of  g-oing-  out  and  "g-etting-  on  "  in  that 
world.     And  as  for  saving-  money— well,  we  call  this  a 
"  three-dollar  claim,''  which  means  an  averag-e  daily 
profit,  when  all  expenses  are  paid,  of  two  dollars  more 
or  less.    These  thoug-ht  are  making-  it  as  g-loomy  within 
as  the  weather  is  without.     I  must  g-et  out  of  this. 
My  g-ray  flannel  working-  shirt  needs  mending-.     The 
rig-ht  sleeve  is  ripped  from  wrist  to  elbow.     It  has 
been  so  ripped  for  about  six  weeks.     I  have  rolled  that 
wet  sleeve  up  to  the  elbow  al)out  a  hundred  times  a 
day,  and  at  every  tenth  sti'oke  of  the  pick  it  has  un- 
rolled ag-ain  and  flapped  in  my  face.     I  sew  up  the 
sleeve  with  a  very  larg-e  needle  and  a  very  coarse  thread 
doubled.     This  is  a  g-ood  time  to  clean  up  a  little.     I 
wfll  be  domestic  to-day.     I  will  bake  a  fresh  batch  of 
bread  and  make  a  pie.     It  shall  be  a  mince  pie.     We 
are  ten  miles  from  the  nearest  baker's  mince  pie.     It 
shall  be  made  of  salt  beef  previously  soaked  to  fresh- 


IIG 

ness,  dried  apples,  molasses  and  vinegar  in  lieu  of  cider. 
The  crust  I  roll  out  with  a  junk  bottle  on  a  sniootli, 
flat  board.  I  bake  it  on  a  shallow  tin  plate.  It  will 
be,  when  done,  a  tliin,  wafery  pie;  but  it  Avill  be  a  pie 
— the  shadow  of  a  pie  at  least — such  as  I  used  to  eat 
at  home;  only  a  shadow. 

Rain,  rain,  rain.  The  wind  is  up  and  about  too,  tear- 
ing- around  among  the  trees  and  shaking  the  cloth  roof 
of  my  cabin.  Here  and  there  little  trickles  of  water 
are  coming  through  and  running  down  the  logs.  Mine 
is  a  log  cabin  of  the  roughest  make.  Four  logs  piled 
atop  of  each  other  form  the  sides.  A  mud  chimne^^ 
at  one  end ;  a  door  at  the  other.  The  logs  are  very 
dr^^  and  ver^^  rotten  and  abound  in  those  insects  that 
delight  in  rotten  Avood.  I  have  found  scorpions  under 
the  bark  and  occasionally  an  earwig  promenades  over 
the  table.  I  open  the  door  and  look  out  on  the  river. 
It  is  rising.  Wrecks  are  coming  down — boards,  logs, 
lumber  and  an  occasional  sluice  and  pieces  of  fluming. 
There  is  an  edd^^  around  the  turn  of  the  hill  above, 
where  much  of  this  drift  runs  in.  I  repair  thither  and 
make  a  few  hauls.  I  secure  a  half-dozen  good  boards, 
some  pieces  of  joist,  some  driftwood  for  fuel,  and  pile 
it  up  on  the  bank  out  of  the  swelling  water's  reach. 
"  Halloa !  "  That  cry  is  from  a  couple  of  men  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  plodding  down  the  trail  in  oil- 
skins. I  know  them.  Two  of  the  "  bo^^s  "  from  Pov- 
ert^'  Bar.  They  are  going  to  Price's  store  two  miles 
below — stoi'e,  grogshop,  boarding-liouse,  polling  booth 
at  election,  ferry,  etc.  Being  a  rainy  day  they  ai-e 
going  there  to  get  drunk.  That  is  not  their  avowed 
purpose  on  setting  out,  but  it's  as  near  a  certainty  as 
anything  can  be  in  this  world. 


117 

I  return  to  my  cabin.  The  pie  has  baked.  It  is 
In-owner  tlian  I  intended  it  sliould  be.  On  one  side  it 
is  ahnost  black.  Is  is  ornamented  about  the  rim  Avith 
a  row  of  scollops  made  by  pressure  of  the  thumb.  Now 
I  put  in  the  bread,  previously  mixed  and  kneaded.  I 
am  not  a  g'ood  breadmaker.  It  is  always  bread  too 
much  baked,  or  too  little,  or  too  sour,  or  too  yellow,  or 
too  heavy.  But  I  don't  care.  I  bake  only  for  myself 
and  lam  unfortunatel}^  too  easily  pleased  and  proba- 
bl3^  too  lazy  to  take  that  care  and  elaborate  prepara- 
tion necessary  for  good  bread.  I  never  measure  accu- 
rateh'  tlie  proportions  of  flour,  water,  and  yeast  powder 
necessary  for  good  bread.  I  throw  them  tog'ether  at 
random.  It's  a  "hit  or  miss" — generally  miss.  It's 
too  much  trouble  to  bother  about  these  small  details. 
A  particular  friend  of  mine  who  sta\'ed  with  me  a  few 
days  reproved  me  for  the  poor  quality  of  ni}^  bread 
and  the  general  slovenliness  apparent  about  ni}^  cook- 
ing utensils. 

"You  have  no  pride,"  said  he. 

I  owned  up.  What  was  the  use  of  pride  about  a  tin 
kettl(\  This  friend  w^as  my  backer.  He  had  set  me 
up  on  this  claim  and  put  me,  after  a  fashion,  on  my 
feet.  He  had  come  to  see  how  I  was  getting  along. 
While  on  this  visit  a  man  of  some  standing  from  a 
camp  up  the  river  came  along  looking  for  a  stray  cow. 
M}^  friend  asked  him  to  dinner — one  of  my  dinners — 
graced  by  about  the  worst  baking  of  bread  I  ever  ac- 
complished. My  friend  did  not  realize  what  he  was 
about  when  he  asked  the  future  Lieutenant-Governor 
of  the  State  of  California  to  that  dinner.  But  when 
he  sat  down  to  my  board  and  when  thc^^  tried  to  eat 
my  bread;  he  sorrowed  in  secret  and  gave  me  some 


118 

^ood  and  forcible  advice  afterward  relative  to  culinary 
and  domestic  matters.  In  these  matters  he  was  a  very 
particular  man.  During"  his  stay  he  inaugurated  a 
reign  of  neatness  and  for  me  one  of  terror  and  dis- 
comfort. He  put  his  whole  mind  on  cooking  and  cov- 
ered the  stove  Avith  dishes.  He  was  an  animated  bill 
of  fare.  He  scoured  all  the  tinware  brightly.  I  was 
quite  surprised  at  the  new,  fresh  look  of  things,  and 
in  secret  thought  seriously  of  reform,  and  hoped  he 
wouldn't  stay  long. 

But  the  man  didn't  enjoy  eating  his  elaborately  pre- 
pared meals  so  much  as  I  did.  He  worked  too  hard 
getting  them  up.  He  exhausted  too  much  of  his  force 
In  planning,  worr^'ing,  and  cooking.  He  worked  his 
mind  in  too  many  channels  at  once.  He  lacked  repose. 
There's  where  I  had  the  best  of  him.  I  was  reposeful, 
and  if  3'ou  please  so  to  term  it,  lazy.  He  is  dead — I 
am  alive.  There's  the  result  of  different  mental  con- 
ditions. It  is  noon.  I  have  no  clock  to  tell  the  hours, 
but  we  acquire  a  faculty  of  feeling  when  noon  arrives. 
The  rain  has  ceased  temporarily,  but  it  Avill  soon  re- 
commence, for  which  I  am  glad,  as  it  will  prevent  work 
on  the  claim  during  the  afternoon.  Having  eaten 
dinner,  finishing  with  a  piece  of  m^^  mince  pie,  it  occurs 
to  me  that  this  is  a  good  time  to  write  home.  It's 
hard  work  writing  home.  I  put  it  off  for  weeks  and 
months.  It  laj^s  a  load  on  my  mind.  I  receive  at 
times  letters  from  people  complaining  of  my  neglect. 
I  know  I  ought  to  write,  but  what  is  there  to  Avrite  ? 
Nothing  but  the  same  old  story  "  Hope  soon  to  do 
well."  I  have  written  in  this  strain  for  the  last  six 
years  until  I  am  tired  and  sick  of  it.  It  is  of  no  use 
telling  an}^  more  about  the  country.     All  that  has 


119 

been  told.  If  my  people  onl}'  knew  how  much  I  suf- 
fered m  this  endeavor  to  be  dutiful,  perhaps  they  would 
not  insist  on  my  writing-  more  than  the  line,  "  I  am 
still  alive;  yours  truly."  Thousands  more  of  letters 
from  California  wanderers  would  have  been  received 
by  anxious  relatives  had  they  been  content  with  this. 
But  3^ou  w^ere  expected  to  write.  Bricks  without  straw. 
It  is  a  hard  thing-  to  realize,  and  few  will  realize  it, 
that  no  matter  how  close  the  tie  of  relationship,  in 
reality  there  can  be  a  wider  and  wider  drifting-  apart. 
Interests  are  not  the  same;  associations  are  not  the 
same;  location,  surrounding,  environment  are  not  the 
same.  Through  some  or  all  of  these  influences  you 
are  g-rowing"  into  another  man ;  another  woman.  You 
would  hardly  recog-nizc  yourself  could  3^ou  see  your 
own  identity  and  individuality  as  it  was  ten  years  agro; 
you  believe  ditferenth',  you  are  another  individual. 
What  is  that  cry  from  the  old  home  so  far  away  ?  It 
is  the  longing-  for  some  expression  from  the  being  of 
1850  and  not  from  the  one  of  18G0,  who,  did  he  stand 
under  the  shadow  of  that  roof  and  sit  at  that  well-re- 
membered table,  would  still  after  a  few  days  show  the 
chang-e,  proving  in  himself  or  herself  the  lack  of  some- 
thing which  once  existed,  and  so  prove  a  disappoint- 
ment. The  ink  in  my  cabin  is  thick,  the  pen  a  bad  one 
and  my  mind  seems  in  this  (epistolary  elFort  thicker 

and  rustier  than  ink  or  pen.     "  Dear "  and  then  a 

big-  blot,  and  then  a  long-  pause  and  the  patter  of  the 
rain  and  the  roar  of  the  river.  I  write  about  a  page 
and  a  half,  feeling  as  if  every  stroke  of  the  pen  were 
encumbered  with  a  ball  and  chain.  I  accomplish  half 
a  dozen  more  blots  and  I  finish  in  a  wretched  state  of 
mind  and  in  a  prickl^^  heat.     It  is  a  barren,  pithless. 


120 

sapless  effort.  I  will  g'o  out  and  g-et  a  breath  of  fresh 
air  and  rain.  It  is  four  o'clock.  Still  it  rains.  Tlie 
heavens  are  dark  and  already  the  first  shades  of  the 
winter's  nig-ht  are  coming*  on.  I  revisit  my  haul  of 
lumber  from  the  river.  It  is  g-one.  The  river  has  not 
reached  the  spot  where  I  placed  it.  It  is  the  w^ork  of 
those  thieving-  Chinamen  on  Chamber's  Bar,  half  a 
mile  above.  Tliere  is  no  use  in  groing*  after  them.  My 
lumber  is  deposit(Hl  and  hidden  amid  the  i^iles  they 
have  to-day  dragg-ed  out  of  the  river. 

I  spend  about  an  hour  g-etting"  in  fuel.  I  have  a  wood- 
yard  on  the  hillside  yonder.  Nature  has  kindly  felled 
and  seasoned  there  a  few  scrub  oaks  for  my  use.  I 
drag  down  a  few  branches.  The  land  here  is  free — 
very  free.  No  fences^  no  boundary  lines,  no  g-ates,  no 
proprietors.  It's  a  pretty  fiat  when  the  sun  sliines. 
A  dark  background  of  mountain,  in  front  a  river,  with 
its  curving-  and  varied  outline  of  tule  and  bank  up  and 
down  stream,  and  close  about  the  oaks  are  so  scat- 
tered as  to  give  one  the  impression  of  a  park  and  an 
old  mansion  hidden  somewhere  in  the  background. 
What  a  luxury  would  be  this  spot  to  thousands  in 
croAvded  cities  who  haven't  even  the  range  of  a  back 
yard  nor  the  shadow  of  a  tree !  Yet  I  am  discontented 
and  would  get  away  to  these  crowded  cities.  The 
early  darkness  has  come.  I  light  my  candle.  M^^ 
candelabra  is  of  glass — dark  olive-green — a  bottle.  I 
did  use  a  big  potato  with  a  hole  therein  scooj^ed.  But 
the  esthetic  nature  requires  constant  change  and  I 
adopted  a  bottle.  I  spread  the  evening  repast.  I  sit 
down  alone.  From  the  window  I  see  lights  glimmer- 
ing in  the  few  other  neighboring  cabins. 

McSkimmins  drops  in  after  tea.     I  know  all  that  Mc- 


121 

Skimmins  will  sa^^  for  I  have  often  lieard  it  before ;  but 
McSkiininiiis  is  better  tlian  nobody — or  rather  better 
than  one's  own  thoug-hts,  unrefreslied  and  unreheved 
by  mixture  with  any  otlier  minds'  thoug-ht.  McSkim- 
mins  g-oes.  I  take  refuge  in  the  effort  to  repair  m}^ 
best  and  only  pair  of  broadcloth  pantaloons.  I  brought 
these  with  me  from  the  States.  They  show  decided 
sig-ns  of  wear.  I  am  putting-  in  a  patch.  It  is  a  job  I 
take  hold  of  at  intervals.  There  is  about  it  a  mys- 
tery and  a  complication  I  can't  fathom.  I  can't  g-et 
the  patch  to  fit,  or,  rather,  to  set.  There  is  more  in 
the  tailor's  art  than  I  imagined.  Every  time  I  hav(» 
put  them  on  I  find  a  difference  and  a  seeming-  division 
of  action  and  scMitiment  between  the  new  cloth  I  have 
sewed  inside  and  the  old  cloth  outside.  They  won't 
hold  tog-ether.  The  stitches  rip  apart  and  ever^'thing- 
g-oes  by  the  run.  I  seem  to  fail  in  making-  the  new 
cloth  accommodate  itself  to  the  varying  proportions 
of  this  part  of  the  garment.  And  so  the  dreary  night 
wears  on.  Rain,  rain,  rain;  roar,  roar,  roar.  Is  this 
livin."-  ? 


122 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  miner's  SUNDAY. 

This  is  the  Sunday'  sun  that  streams  through  the 
cabin  window  and  throug-h  the  chinks  of  the  cabin  wall. 

It  is  the  same  sunshine  as  that  of  the  week  day. 
Yet  as  the  miner  wakes  and  realizes  it  is  Sunda^^  it 
has  a  different  appearance  and  conveys  a  different  im- 
pression from  that  of  the  weekday  sun.  Every  thing- 
seems  more  quiet,  more  restful,  and  even  more  staid 
and  serious.  There  belongs  to  it  and  to  the  landscape 
as  he  looks  out  a  flavor  of  far-away  Eastern  Sabbath 
bells  and  Sunday  morning's  hush  and  longer  famil^^ 
prayer  than  usual  and  Sunday-school.  But  there  is 
not  a  church  bell  withiii  ten  miles  and  there  never  will 
be  one  heard  on  this  flat.  There  is  not  the  least  ap- 
proach to  church  society  or  religious  organization  or 
observance.  There  is  not,  so  far  as  known,  so  much  as 
a  man  in  the  least  rehgiously  inclined.  We  are  a  hard 
lot.  No  work  on  the  claim  to-day.  The  pick  and 
shovel  will  rest  where  thrown  Saturday  afternoon  and 
only  a  trickle  of  yellowish  water  from  the  reservoir 
will  seep  through  the  long  line  of  sluices  instead  of 
yesterday's  muddy  '  surge  rushing  through — sand, 
gravel  and  grating  pebble  and  boulder. 

But  there  is  work  of  another  sort  to  be  done  and  a 
great  deal  of  it.  After  breakfast  shaving.  That  small 
mirror  of  most  imperfect  glass,  whose  reflection  dis- 


123 

torts  the  features,  screwing-  up  one  side  of  the  face  and 
enkirging-  the  other  in  an  unnatural  fasliion,  is  suit- 
ably adjusted.  A  smell  of  soap  pervades  the  air.  He 
lathers  and  shaves  and  relathers  and  reshaves  with  a 
tedious  and  painful  precision,  the  while  making-  faces 
at  himself  in  the  glass  as  he  brings  one  portion  of  his 
countenance  after  another  more  directly  under  the 
sweep  of  the  razor.  In  some  cases  he  comes  off  with  a 
few  scratches  or  leaves  a  hirsute  oasis  here  and  there 
of  uncut  bristle.  Black  pantaloons,  a  white  shirt,  a  felt 
or  straw  hat,  a  linen  duster  and  the  Sunday  boots. 
This  is  his  dandy  outfit.  In  his  pocket  is  a  buckskin 
purse,  once  yellow,  now  faded  to  a  dull  g-ray,  holding- 
g-old  dust,  a  few  ounces  more  or  less,  perhaps  five, 
perhaps  ten.  It  is  the  company  dust  and  is  to  be  sold 
and  turned  into  bright,  yellow  gold  pieces.  And  why 
all  this  preparation?  "To  go  to  camp."  Camp  is 
three  miles  away  over  the  mountain  yonder.  A  group 
of  ramshackle  cabins,  alternating  with  saloons,  three 
grocery  stores,  a  hotel,  an  express  office  and  a  Justice 
of  the  Peace,  all  in  a  hot  gulch,  with  hillsides  long  ago 
swept  of  trees,  scarred  with  cuts  and  streaked  with 
patches  of  dry  yellowish  ledge.  "  Camp  "  to  him  has 
all  the  importance  and  interest  of  a  great  metropolis. 
It  is  the  centre  of  news.  The  stage  passes  through 
it  on  the  way  to  a  larger  camp.  Two  boss  gamblers 
reside  there.  There  is  a  faro  game  on  occasions,  a 
billiard  table  with  a  mountainous  sort  of  bed,  where 
the  balls  roll  as  they  please  and  after  an  eccentric 
fashion  of  their  own. 

The  camp  is  for  him  the  first  nerve-centre  of  civiliza- 
tion and  the  only  outlet  to  the  great  world  which  he 
has  left.    You,  fresh  from  the  great  city,  regard  this 


dilapidated  place  as  an  out-of-the-way  corner;  but  to 
liim,  living-  on  his  remote  flat,  with  but  two  cabirs  in 
sight  for  as  many  miles,  camp  is  a  place  of  import 
ance.  The  news  is  fresh  here;  the  cit}^  papers  are 
here;  the  political  candidates  speak  here;  the  one- 
horse  show  comes  here  and  all  the  minor  lawsuits  are 
tried  here.  Camp  is  reached  after  a  long,  hot  walk. 
He  suffers  in  his  store  clothes  from  the  heat.  In  his 
working  every-day  flannels  he  would  not  so  much 
mind  it,  but  the  restraint  and  chokiness  of  starched 
linen  are  fatig-uing.  It  is  laborious  even  to  be  "  dressed 
up  "  on  a  hot  day.  Of  this  he  is  not  aw^are.  He  has 
not  yet  so  far  analyzed  into  the  depth  and  causes  of 
sensations,  yet  it  is  a  labor  in  tropical  weather  to  wear 
and  bear  good  clothes — clothes  which  cannot  safely  be 
perspired  in;  clothes  which  one  can't  " lop  down "  in ; 
clothes  which  require  care  in  the  keeping,  as  well  as 
dignity  and  uprightness;  I  mean  physical  uprightness. 
He  never  so  much  suffered  fi-om  the  heat  on  a  week 
day  as  on  Sundays  and  the  cause  was  mainly  the 
difference  between  clothes  which  demanded  considera- 
tion and  respect  and  those  which  did  not. 

He  repairs  first  to  the  Magnolia.  He  has  long  in 
imagination  seen  it  from  afar.  How  cool  is  the  big" 
barroom.  The  landlord  keeps  the  floor  well  wet  down. 
That  Magnolia  floor  is  one  of  the  few  places  where 
water,  unmixed  with  other  fluid,  is  useful  and  grate- 
ful. How  comforting  and  soothing-  is  the  first  drink. 
A  long  drink  in  a  long  tumbler,  with  plenty  of  ice, 
soda  water  and  whiskey.  If  heaven  be  anywhere^  as  a 
material  locality  it  is  in  that  first  cool  drink  after  a 
three-mile  July  tramp  over  the  kiln-dried  hills  and 
herbage  of  the  California  foothills.     The  Magnolia  is 


125 


the  social  hcart-c.entre  of  camp.  There  he  finds  the 
doctor.  Tlie  doctor  drinks  with  him.  The  doctor 
drinks  with  everybody.  There,  too,  is  the  Justice  of 
the  Peace.  The  Justice  drinks  with  him.  Tlie  Justice 
holds  his  Court  at  the  Ma<2;-nolia.  The  proprietor  of 
the  Magnoha  is  the  camp  constabhi  and  betAveen  drinks 
during-  trials  calls  viva  voce  the  witnesses  in  the  case. 
The  Judg-e  drinks  with  him.  The  Judgv;  grenerally 
drinks.  The  principal  camp  g-ambler  is  at  the  Mag- 
nolia. He  takes  a  light  drink.  He  is  a  wise  man  and 
knows  the  advantage  and  profit  of  keeping-  a  cool  head. 
The  reg-ular  camp  drunkard  sits  in  the  rear  in  one  of 
the  arm-chairs  back  of  the  billiard  table.  He  looks  so 
huiiil)le,  so  respectful— and  so  dry,  that  our  miner's 
heart  moves  to  ])ity  and  he  "asks  him  up."  He  com- 
plies, but  not  with  undue  haste.  This  treats  of  the  era 
between  1865  and  ISTO.  The  camp  drunkard  had  not 
then  so  "lost  his  grip"  as  to  be  unmindful  of  a  certain 
slowness,  deliberation  and  dignity  befitting-  a  g-entle- 
man.  But  when  he  does  arrive  at  the  bar  he  takes  a 
"four-fing-ered"  drink. 

They  stand  in  a  row  at  the  bar.  The  barkeeper  is 
mixing- the  "long-"  and  the  short  drinks.  Each  man 
waits,  says  nothing-  and  eyes  every  motion  of  the  bar- 
tender. The  silence  is  impressive.  All  is  ready. 
Each  g-lass  is  g-rasped  and  raised,  and  then  from  each 
to  each,  and  more  than  all,  from  all  to  the  drink  donor, 
there  is  a  nod,  that  incantatory  phrase  is  uttered, 
"Well,  here's  luck,"  and  the  poison  is  down.  As  it 
rasps,  they  call  "Ahem!"  with  varied  deg-rees  of 
modulation.  But  this  is  a  careful  and  prudent  miner 
and  he  now  repairs  to  tlie  store.  There  his  dust  is 
weighed,  sold,  and  the  week's  provision  ordered.     His 


126 

combined  partners'  "  divv^^s  "  are  put  aside  in  a  lump 
and  safely  stored.  Now  the  weig-ht  is  off  his  mind. 
He  returns  to  the  attractions  of  camp. 

These  are  not  numerous.  There  is  the  Magnoha,  the 
Bella  Union,  the  Court  Exchange,  the  post  and  express 
office.  There  are  the  "  bo^^s."  He  learns  the  news  of 
the  county  or  district.  The  Mount  Vernon  is  paying- 
four  dollars  per  day.  Long  Shortman  has  gone  on 
another  spree  and  hasn't  done  any  work  for  the  last 
ten  days.  Jimmy  McNeil  has  sent  for  his  wife's 
sister.  She  is  unmarried.  Sullivan  has  had  another 
row  with  his  wife  and  she  has  complained  to  the 
authorities.  Sam  Gedne^^  is  going  to  run  for  County 
Clerk  on  the  Democratic  ticket.  Bob  Delmame  lost 
$:300  at  the  game  the  other  night.  A  San  Francisco 
comx^any  have  bought  the  Crazy  gulch  quartz  lead 
and  will  put  a  ten-stamp  mill  on  it.  The  school- 
master was  drunk  last  Friday  night.  Ford  shot  at 
McGillis  the  other  night,  but  did  not  hit  him.  There 
is  scandal  and  talk  concerning  the  Frenchwoman  who 
keeps  the  peanut  stand  and  the  Justice  of  the  Peace. 
The  Wiley  girls,  two  sisters  who  have  recently  moved 
into  camp,  are  making  a  sensation,  and  their  small 
parlor  at  times  won't  hold  the  crowd  of  semi-bald  and 
imconsciously  middle-aged  miners  and  others  who  are 
calling  on  them  with  possible  matrimony  in  prospect- 
ive. They  may  pass  along  the  street  about  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  and  such  "  ragging  out "  was  never 
seen  before  in  this  camp.  The  curious  have  investi- 
gated the  tracks  made  by  their  little  gaiters  in  the 
red  dust  of  the  upper  road  and  report  them  the  small- 
est feet  ever  seen  in  this  section.  Billy  Devins  of  the 
Blue-jay  claim  is  thought  to  have  the  best  show  with 


127 

the  eldest,  and  Goldberry  of  the  hveiy  stable  with  the 
yoiiiig-est.  No.  He  won't  let  his  best  horse  and  bug-g-y 
to  anybody  now  and  takes  her  out  riding-  three  times 
a  week.  But  they're  snappy  and  uncertain,  and  no- 
body can  count  on  them  for  a  certainty.  So  runs  the 
week's  news,  which  he  picks  up  with  sundry  drinks. 

He  enjoys  the  luxury  of  a  hotel  dinner— a  dinner  he 
is  not  oblig-ed  to  prepare  with  his  own  hands — a  de- 
cidedly plain  dinner  in  metropolitan  estimation,  but  to 
him,  commencing-  with  soup  and  ending-  with  pie,  a 
sumptuous  repast.  It  is  moonlight  and  he  takes  his 
way  back  by  the  old  trail  home.  Old  not  in  years, 
but  in  association.  It  is  l)ut  the  track  of  twenty  years 
or  so,  yet  for  him  how  old  is  it  in  thoug-ht.  How 
many,  many  times  he  has  travelled  over  it. 

That  poker  g-ame  is  going-  on  in  one  corner  of  the 
Mag-nolia.  The  "hard  case  ''  from  over  the  hill  is  try- 
ing- to  beat  it.  He  has  been  so  trying-  every  Sunday 
nig-ht  in  that  same  saloon  and  in  that  same  corner  for 
the  last  twenty  years.  He  has  grown  old  in  trying-. 
It  has  kept  him  poor,  3'et  he  thinks  he  can  play  poker. 
He  is  encourag-ed  in  this  impression  by  a  considerate 
few.  He  works  for  them.  They  "  scoop  him  in  "  reg-- 
ularly.  He  will  go  home  to-morrow  morning-,  and 
during-  the  week  wash  out  a  couple  of  ounces  more  for 
the  benefit  of  "Scotty  "  and  "Texas.''  It  is  11  o'clock 
and  time  to  g-o  home.  That  three-mile  walk  is  before 
him;  he  has  taken  as  many  drinks  as  is  prudent,  pos- 
sibly one  or  two  more.  The  camp  saloon  revelries  are 
beginning-  to  quiet  down.  Most  of  the  prominent 
drunks  have  fallen  in  the  cause.  The  chronic  drunk  of 
the  camp  is  talking-  at  the  bar.  But  he  will  thus  talk  all 
nig-ht;  he  never  stops  talking— or  drinking.     He  has 


128 

been  here  more  or  less  drunk  ever  since  1852.  He  is  phe- 
nomenal and  not  a  standard  for  ordinary-  intemperates. 
Almost  every  camp  has  known  such  a  drunkard.  Some 
are  alive  yet.  They  are  of  the  hnmortal  few  not  born 
to  die.     It  would  be  madness  to  compete  with  such. 

So  he  sets  out  on  his  lonely  walk.  Of  how  much  has 
lie  thought  while  plodding-  over  it.  Here  the  same  big- 
buckeye  brushes  ag-ainst  his  face  as  it  did  in  the 
"spring-  of  '50/' when  he  was  twenty  years  younger 
and  had  a  sweetheart  in  the  "  States,"  whose  memory 
Avas  fresh  and  warm.  It  has  all  died  out  since.  The 
letters  became  less  and  less,  the  years  more  and  more, 
and  then  all  came  to  a  dead  standstill  and  he  received 
the  village  paper,  and  there,  appropriately  below  the 
column  of  deaths,  he  read  of  her  marriage,  whereat  he 
went  to  camp  and  plunged  Avildly  into  all  the  concert 
saloon  could  give  and  made  thing's  hoAvl  and  boldly 
challenged  the  chronic  poker  game  and  Avon.  The 
trail  turns  suddenly- .  It  has  run  over  the  rocks  by  the 
river,  its  trail  at  times  for  many  feet  almost  illegible, 
a  vague  smoothly- worn  streak  over  ledge  and  loose 
boulders,  polished  and  strewn  Avith  new  white  sand 
and  pebbles  by  souie  unusually  high  freshet.  But  here 
the  shelving  bank  suddenly  ceases.  It  becomes  a 
precipice.  Up  the  hard-worn  j^ath  in  the  red  earth  he 
climbs  fort}^,  fifty,  sixty  feet.  It  is  closely  hedged 
with  chemisal.  Now  he  emerges  near  the  brow  of  the 
high  rocky  bluff.  In  all  its  moonlit  glory  surges,  bub- 
bles, and  roars  the  river  below.  Its  yelloAV  muddiness 
of  the  day  is  noAv  changed  to  a  dark  shade  of  broAvn, 
Avitli  tremulous  silver  bars.  Night  and  the  moon  are 
the  artists. 


129 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  COW  FEVER. 

About  this  time  (18G1)  a  cow  fever  beg-an  to  rag-e 
throughout  the  State.  It  got  hold  of  people,  and  im- 
pressed them  with  a  burning  idea  that  the  road  to  for- 
tune was  a  cow  path,  and  that  fortunes  lay  in  keep- 
ing cattle.  The  cow  fever  reached  the  seclusion  of 
Swett's  Bar.  We  invested  all  our  spare  cash  in  cows 
and  waited  for  results.  Cattle  were  spoken  of  as  a 
sure  card  for  fortune.  Keep  cattle.  Buy  improved 
breeds.  Raise  them.  "  Cross  "  them.  Feed  them  for 
nothing  on  the  native  grass.  Buy  cows.  Cows  give 
milk.  People  can  live  on  milk.  Milk  then  to  us  Avas 
a  luxury.  It  paid  no  milkman  to  travel  up  and  down 
the  rough  and  rocky  ledges  of  the  Tuolumne  ringing 
his  bell  at  miners'  cabins  half  a  mile  apart.  Indeed  he 
could  not  so  travel  without  carrying  his  milk  a  la 
panier  on  a  donkey's  back,  and  by  the  time  it  had 
reached  its  place  of  destination  it  would  have  been 
agitated  to  butter.  So  all  of  us  miners  went  in  for 
cows.  Improved  cows.  We  bought  each  an  improved 
cow.  We  hauled  this  cow  b}^  ropes  across  the  raging, 
eddying,  furious  river  to  our  side.  Frequently  she  ar- 
rived more  dead  than  alive.  Then  came  a  season  of 
hope  and  expectation  as  to  fortunes  through  coavs. 
We  arose  at  five  in  the  morning,  built  the  fire  for 
breakfast,  went  out  and  sought  our  cows,  generally 


130 

feeding-  or  reposing-  a  mile  or  more  from  our  cabins, 
caught  these  cows,  milked  them,  returned  to  the  cabin, 
finished  the  cooking  of  either  a  burned  or  cold  break- 
fast, went  forth  and  labored  in  the  claim  till  noon, 
came  home,  cooked  dinner,  Aveflt  forth  again,  at  1  p.m., 
labored  till  six,  went  back  to  the  cabins,  chopped  wood 
for  fuel,  travelled  500  feet  or  yards  to  the  spring  for 
water,  returned,  mixed  our  bread,  put  it  in  the  oven, 
went  out  and  milked  the  cow,  then  bent  over  the  hot 
stove  for  an  hour  until  bread  was  baked,  and  then, 
heated,  flushed,  perspiring,  exhausted  from  the  day's 
labor,  and  with  nerves  quivering-  by  reason  of  such  ex- 
haustion, w^e  arranged  the  miner's  table,  sat  down  to 
the  meal,  and  w^ondered  why  we  had  so  little  appetite. 
Keeping  cows  proved  laborious  work  for  miners. 
When,  in  addition  to  kindling  the  fire  in  the  morning, 
cooking  your  own  breakfast,  coming  home  at  night 
wet  and  tired  after  working  all  day  in  the  ground- 
sluice,  then  hacking  away  at  some  old  stump  to  get 
wood  enough  to  cook  the  supper,  travelhng  may  be  an 
eighth  of  a  mile  to  the  nearest  spring  for  a  pail  of 
w^ater,  and  bending  and  bothering-  with  meat-frying 
and  bread-making-,  you  add,  chasing  night  and  morn, 
milk  pail  in  hand,  some  contrary  cow  all  over  the  flat 
in  order  to  milk  her,  you  pile  too  heavy  a  load  on  an^^ 
man's  back.  Because,  in  the  matter  of  housekeeping, 
we  had  ceased  the  co-operative  system.  We  dwelt  all 
apart,  each  a  hermit  in  his  own  cabin.  We  were  di 
verse  in  habit,  and  could  not  get  along-  with  each 
other's  peculiarities.  The  neat  man  couldn't  abide  the 
slovenly  man;  the  economical  man  couldn't  sit  pa- 
tiently by  and  see  his  partner  cut  potato  parings  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  in  thickness;  the  nervous  man  Avas 


131 

exhausted  by  his  partner's  whistling-  or  snoring,  and 
all  these  and  numberless  other  opposing-  peculiarities 
at  k'.st  caused  each  man  hermit-like,  to  retire  into 
his  own  cell. 

We  had  other  trouble  Avitli  our  cows,  for  they  were 
ravenous  after  salt.     We  neglected  to  "salt  them.'' 
Result :  If  any  article  containing:  the  least  incrustation 
of  salt  was  left  outside  our  cabins,  the  entire  herd 
would  g-ather  about  it  at  night,  lick  it,  fig-ht  for  its 
possession  and  keep  up  a  steady  g-runting-,  stamping-, 
lowing-,  and  bello^^4ng-.     They  would  eat  clothing-  left 
out  over  nig-ht  on  the  clothes-line  to  dry.     In  such 
manner  and   for  such   reason    also   would   they  eat 
throug-h  the  cotton  walls  of  our  houses.     Once,  when 
away  for  three  da^'S  attending-  a  county  convention 
at  Sonora,  on  returning-  to  my  lone  cabin,  I  found  it  a 
scene  of  ruin  and  desolation.    A  cow  had  eaten  throug-h 
the  cloth  wall  on  one  side,  and  eaten  her  way  out  at 
the  other,  and  had  stopped  long-  enough  inside  to  eat 
up  all  my  flour,  rice,  and  vegetables.    Once,  when  mov- 
ing my  household  effects  from  one  cabin  to  another, 
on  a  wheelbarrow,  I  left  it  near  the  middle  of  the  flat 
for  a  few  minutes.     On  returning- 1  saw  a  cow  making 
off  with  my  best  coat.     She  held  it  in  her  mouth  b3^ 
one  sleeve.     On  seeing  me  she  started  off  on  a  run,  still 
thus  holding  the  sleeve  in  her  mouth  and  making  vio- 
lent efforts  to  eject  it.     The  coat-sleeve  was  a  ruin 
when  I  did  get  it.     She  had  chewed  it  for  salt's  sake 
to  the  likeness  of  a  fish  net.     Keeping  cows  did  not 
make  our  fortunes  at  Swett's.     Then  everybody  said  : 
"Keep  hogs.     They  will  feed  on  acorns  and  inci^ease 
very  rapidly.     In  a  few  years  the  plains  and  hills  will 
groan  under  the  burden  of  your  pork.''     So  I  bought 


132 

hogs.  I  boug-ht  a  sow  and  seven  pig's.  They  g-ave  me 
mucli  to  think  of.  Before  I  had  owned  them  a  week 
complaints  concerning  them  came  from  neighboring- 
miners,  who  owned  no  hog's.  These  pig-s  of  mine 
brolce  throug"h  the  clotli  walls  of  th(^  cabins  and  would 
consume  the  miner's  entire  weekly  stock  of  provisioiis 
in  a  few  minutes.  Then  they  would  g'o  outside  and 
root  from  out  the  hot  coals — his  "  Dutch  oven/'  wherein 
his  bread  was  baking-  while  he  labored  afar  in  his 
claim,  and  this  bread  when  cooled  they  would  also 
devour.  I  had,  on  bujdng  these  animals,  engaged 
that  they  should  "  find  themselves." 

There  was  no  reasoning  with  the  suffering  miners 
in  this  matter.  I  argued  that  ni}^  pigs  had  a  right  to 
run  at  large,  and  that  they  should  make  their  houses 
more  secure.  The  miners  argued  that  right  or  not 
right,  they  would  shoot  my  pigs  even  if  found  near 
their  cabins.  If  that  was  not  suflicient,  they  might 
shoot  me.  Their  positiveness  in  this  matter  Avas  of  an 
intense  and  violent  character.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  discussion  with  them  on  legal  or  equitable 
grounds.  I  think  now  that  I  and  the  i3igs  had  law  and 
right  on  our  side,  but  the  miners  were  in  the  majority 
and  had  might.  Nor  was  this  all.  These  pigs,  seem- 
ingly recognizing  my  ownership,  came  home  at  night 
to  sleep.  The}^  slept  in  a  pile  just  outside  my  cabin 
door,  and  as  the  night  air  wafted  down  from  the  higher 
Sierra  summits  became  cooler,  the  pigs  on  the  outside 
of  the  pile  became  uncomfortable.  Being  uncomforta- 
ble they  tried  to  get  inside  the  pile.  This  the  warm  pigs 
inside  resisted.  The  resistance  was  accompanied  with 
squealing  and  grunting,  which  lasted  all  night  long  and 
disturbed  my  sleep.     This  pig  pile  consisted  of  a  rind 


133 

of  cold  and  uncoinfortablo  pi^s  and  a  core  of  warm 
and  comfoi'table  pig's,  and  tliere  was  a  continual  effort 
on  tlie  part  of  the  cold  porcine  rind  to  usurp  the  j^laces 
of  the  warm  and  comfortable  porcine  core.  They  gave 
me  no  rest,  for  when,  with  the  warm  morning-  sun, 
this  uproar  ceased,  there  came  the  season  of  complaint 
and  threat  from  my  plundered  neighbors.  Finally  a 
cold  storm  chilled  half  of  tliese  pigs  to  death.  I  sold 
the  remainder  as  quickly  as  possible  to  a  ranchman 
who  better  understood  tlie  hog  business. 

During  the  receding  of  the  waters  after  one  of  the 
annual  spring  freshets,  I  saw  several  hundred  dollars 
in  gold  dust  washed  out  near  the  base  of  a  pine  tree 
on  the  river's  bank,  between  Hawkins'  and  Swett's 
Bar,  where  probabh'  it  had  years  before  been  buried 
by  some  unknown  miner.  That  is,  I  saw  it  after  it 
had  been  washed  out  and  found  b\'  another  more  for- 
tunate miner.  In  all  piM)babilit\'  there  are  many 
tliousands  of  dollars  in  dust  so  dug  b}-  hard-working 
hands  and  so  buried  in  California,  there  to  remain 
until  the  Last  Day  perhaps  longer.  Wliere's  the 
utility  of  resurrecting  the  "  Root  of  all  Evil ''  on  the 
Last  Day,  just  at  the  time  when  people  in  heaven 
or  elsewhere  are  presumed  to  be  able  to  get  along 
without  it  ?  Yet  it  is  a  mysterious  Providence  that 
impels  any  poor  fellow  to  dig  his  pile  bury  it  for  safe- 
keeping, and  then  go  off  and  die  in  some  out-of-the- 
way  place  without  being  al)le  to  leave  any  will  and  tes- 
tament as  to  the  exact  hole  where  his  savings  lay. 
Regarding  buried  treasure,  there  is  a  hill  near  James- 
town concerning  which,  j^ears  ago,  there  hovered  a 
legend  that  it  held  somewhere  thousands  of  dollars  in 
dust,  buried  in  the  early  days  by  a  lone  miner,  who 


134 

was,  for  his  mone^^'s  sake,  murdered  in  his  cabin.  They 
said  that  by  the  roots  of  many  trees  on  that  liillside  it 
had  been  unsuccessfully  dug-  for.  Anyway,  tlie  miner 
left  a  memory  and  a  hope  behind  him.  That's  more 
than  many  do.  If  you  want  to  leave  a  lasting-  recol- 
lection of  yourself  behind  drop  a  hint  from  time  to 
time  ere  you  depart  for  "The  Bright  and  Shining 
Shore"  that  you  have  interred  $10,000  somewhere  in  a 
quarter  section  of  land,  you  will  then  long  be  remem- 
bered and  your  money  dug  for. 


m 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

RED   MOUNTAIN   BAR. 

The  California  niinii^i^  camp  was  ephemeral.  Often 
it  was  founded,  built  up,  flourished,  decayed,  and  had 
weeds  and  herbag-e  g-rowing-  over  its  site  and  hiding- 
all  of  man's  Avork  inside  of  ten  years.  Yet  to  one  wit 
nessing-  these  chang-es  it  seemed  the  life  of  a  whole 
generation.  Of  such  settlements.  Red  Mountain  Bar 
was  one.  Red  Mountain  lay  three  miles  above  Swett's 
Bar,  "  up  river."  I  lived  "  off  and  on  "  at  the  "  Bar ''  in 
its  dying-  days.  I  saw  it  decay  g'ently  and  peacefully. 
I  saw  the  g-rass,  trees,  and  herbag-e  g-radually  creep  in 
and  resume  their  sway  all  over  its  site  as  they  had 
done  ere  man's  interruption. 

I  lived  there  when  the  few  "  boys  "  left  used  daily, 
after  the  close  of  an  unsuccessful  river  season,  to  sit 
in  a  row  on  a  log-  by  the  river's  edge,  and  there,  sur- 
veying- their  broken  dam,  would  chant  curses  on  their 
luck.  The  Bar  store  was  then  still  in  existence. 
Thompson  was  its  proprietor.  The  stock  on  hand  had 
dwindled  down  to  whiskey.  The  bar  and  one  filled 
bottle  alone  survived.  On  rainy  nights,  when  the  few 
miners  left  would  gather  about  the  stove  Thompson 
would  take  down  his  fiddle,  and  fiddle  and  sing-, 
"What  can't  be  cured  must  be  endured,"  or,  "The 
King-  into  his  g-arden  came;  the  spices  smelt  about 
the  same" — a  cxuotation  of  unknown  authorship.     Of 


130 

neig-hbors,  living-  in  their  cabins  strung-  along-  th(^ 
banks  for  half  a  mile  above  the  store,  there  was  Keen 
Fann,  an  aged  mercantile  and  mining-  Chinaman,  with 
a  colony  about  him  of  lesser  and  faciall}-  indistinguish- 
able countrymen  of  varying-  numbers.  Second,  "  Old 
Harry,"  an  ag-ed  neg-ro,  a  skilled  performer  on  the 
bug-le  and  a  sing-er,  who  offered  at  times  to  favor  us 
with  what  he  termed  a  "little  ditto."  He  w^as  the 
Ethiopic  king-  of  a  knot  of  Kanakas  g-athered  about 
hhn.  Third,  "  Bloody  Bill,"  so-called  from  his  frequent 
use  of  the  sang'uinary  adjective,  and,  as  may  be  guessed, 
an  Englishman.  Fourth,  an  old  Scotchman,  one  of 
the  Bar's  oldest  inhabitants,  who  would  come  to  the 
store  with  the  little  bit  of  g-old  dust,  g-athered  after  a 
hard  day's  "crevicing-"  complaining-  that  g'old  was 
g-etting-  as  scarce  as  "  the  grace  of  God  in  the  Heelands 
of  Scotland."  Fifth,  McFarlane,  a  white-bearded  old 
fellow,  another  pioneer,  who  after  a  yearly  venture 
into  some  strange  and  distant  locality  to  "chang-e  his 
luck,"  was  certain  eventually  to  drift  back  ag-ain  to 
the  Bar,  which  he  reg-arded  as  home.  Down  the  river, 
nestled  hig-h  up  in  a  steep  and  picturesque  g-ulch,  stood 
the  bucke^x^-embowered  cabin  of  old  Jonathan  Brown, 
the  ditch  tender,  a  g-reat  reader  of  weekly  "story 
papers,"  who  lived  like  a  boy  in  the  literature  of  the 
Western  Frontier  Penny  Aivful,  and  who,  coming-  to 
the  store  and  perching-  himself  on  the  counter,  would 
sometimes  break  out  in  remarks  about  how  "Them 
thar  Indians  got  the  better  of  'em  at  last,"  to  the  as- 
tonishment of  the  "boys,"  who  imag-ined  at  first  that 
he  referred  to  Indians  in  the  locality,  suggesting  pos- 
sibilities of  a  repetition  of  the  g-reat  Oak  Flat  uprising- 
of  1850. 


137 

At  the  "top  of  the.liill/'a  mile  and  a  half  away, 
stood  the  "Yankee  Ranch,"  kept  by  a  bustling-,  un- 
easy, and  rather  uncomfortable  man  from  Massachu- 
setts, aided  by  his   g'ood-natured,  easy-g-oing-   son-in- 
law.     One  rainy  winter's  day  the  "  boys  "  cong-reg-ated 
about  Thompson's  store  became  seized  with  a  whim 
for  the  manufacture  of  little  pasteboard  men  turning- 
grindstones,  which,  fastened   to   the   stove,  were   im- 
pelled to  action  by  the  ascending-  current  of  hot  air. 
So  they  smoked  their  pipes,  and  wrought  all  day  until 
the  area  of  stovepipe  became  thickly  covered  with  lit- 
tle pasteboard  men  busily  turning-  pasteboard  g-rind- 
stones.     Then,  George   ]VI.  G.,  the   son-in-law   of  the 
Yankee  Ranch,  came  down  the  hill  to  borrow  an  axe. 
Georg-e  was  of  that  temperament  and  inchnation  to 
be  of  all  thing-s  charmed  with  a  warm  stove  on  a  cold, 
rainy  day,  a  knot  of  g-ood  fellows  about  it,  a  frequent 
pipe  of  tobacco,  maybe  an  occasional  punch  and  the 
pleasing   manufacture   of  hot-air-driven   little   paste- 
board men  turning  pasteboard  g-rindstones.     He  for- 
g-ot  his  axe— sat  down  and  beg-an  with  the  rest  the 
manufacture  of  pasteboard  men  and  g-rindstones.    And 
he  kept  on  till  a  late  hour  of  the  nig-ht,  and  stayed  at 
the  Bar  all  nig-ht  and  all  the  next  day  and  that  next 
nig-ht,  until  the  stovepipe  was  covered  to  its  very  top 
with  little  men,  all  working-  away  for  dear  life  turning- 
g-rindstones;   and  on  the  second  day  of  his  stay  the 
exasperated  father-in-law  suddenly  appeared  and  de- 
livered himself  in  impatient  invective  with  reg-ard  to 
such  conduct  on  the  part  of  a  son-in-law  sent  forty- 
eig-ht  hours  previously  to  borrow  an  axe.     Such  was 
the  circle  oft  g-athered  on  the  long-,  rainy  winter's  eve 
about  the  Thompson  store  stove.     All  smoked.    Keen 


138 

Fann  frequently  dropped  in.  He  stood  respectfully, 
as  a  heathen  should  in  such  a  Christian  asseniblaij;'(^, 
on  its  outer  edg-e,  or  humbly  appropriated  some  unoc- 
cupied keg",  and  for  the  rest — grinned.  From  his  little 
piggy  eyes  to  his  double  chin  Keen's  face  was  a  per- 
manentl}^  settled  grin. 

Keen  Fann  had  learned  about  twenty  words  of  Eng- 
lish and  would  learn  no  more.  In  his  estimation,  these 
twenty  words,  variously  used,  after  a  sort  of  gram- 
matical kaleidoscopic  fashion,  seemed  adequate  to  con- 
vey everything  required.  One  of  his  presumed  Eng-- 
lish  expressions  long  puzzled  the  bo3^s.  Asking*  the 
price  of  articles  at  the  store  lie  would  say :  "  Too  muchee 
pollyfoot.''  At  last  tbe  riddle  was  correctly  g-uessed. 
He  meant:     "  Too  much  profit." 

For  protection  Keen  Fann  built  his  house  opposite 
the  store.  The  Mexicans  were  then  attacking  and 
robbing  isolated  bands  of  Chinamen.  At  one  bar  a 
few  miles  beloAv,  then  deserted  by  the  whites,  the 
Chinese  had  inclosed  their  camp  with  a  high  stockade 
of  logs.  Yet  one  night  they  were  attacked.  The 
Mexicans  besieged  their  fortress  for  hours,  peppering 
them  from  the  hillside  with  revolvers,  and  at  last  they 
broke  through  the  Mongolian  Avorks  and  bore  off  all 
their  dust  and  a  dozen  or  more  revolvers.  Keen 
Fann's  castle  was  in  dimensions  not  more  than  12x15 
feet,  and  in  height  two  stories.  Within  it  was  parti- 
tioned oil  into  rooms  not  much  larger  than  dry-goods 
boxes.  The  hallways  were  just  wide  enough  to  scpu^eze 
through,  and  very  dark.  It  was  intensely  labyrin- 
thian,  and  Keen  was  always  making"  it  more  so  by 
devising  new  additions.  No  white  man  ever  did  know 
exactlv  where  the  structure  hei2'an  or  ended.    Keen  was 


139 

a  merchant,  dealing-  principally^  in  g-in,  fish,  and  opium. 
His  store  was  involved  in  this  curious  dwelling",  all  of 
his  own  construction.  In  the  store  was  a  counter. 
Behind  it  there  was  just  room  for  Keen  to  sit  down, 
and  in  front  there  was  just  room  enoug-h  for  the  cus- 
tomer to  turn  around.  When  Keen  was  the  merchant 
he  looked  imposing-  in  an  immense  pair  of  Cliinc^se 
spectacles.  When  he  shook  his  rocker  in  the  bank  l.(^ 
took  oIT  these  spectacles.  He  was  a  larg-e  consunu^r 
of  his  own  g"in.  I  once  asked  him  the  amount  of  his 
weekly  allowance.  "  Me  tink,"  said  he, "  one  g-allun,  hap 
(lialf)."  From  the  upper  story  of  the  castle  protruded 
a  hug-e  spear-head.  It  was  made  bj^  the  local  black- 
smith, aiul  intended  as  a  menace  to  the  Mexican  ban- 
dits. As  they  grew  bolder  and  more  threatening', 
Keen  sent  down  to  San  Francisco  and  purchased  a  lot 
of  old  pawn-shop  revolvers.  These  being-  received, 
military  preparation  and  drill  went  on  for  several 
weeks  by  Keen  and  his  forces.  He  practised  at  target- 
shooting-,  aimed  at  the  mark  with  both  eyes  shut,  and 
for  those  in  its  immediate  vicinity  with  a  most  omin- 
ous and  threatening-  waver  of  the  arm  holding-  the 
weapon.  It  was  pi'ophesied  that  Keen  would  kill 
somebody-  Avith  that  pistol.  None  ever  expected  that 
he  would  kill  the  proper  person.  Yet  he  did.  One 
nig-ht  an  alarm  was  given.  Keen's  castle  was  at- 
tacked. The  "  boys,"  hearing-  the  disturbance,  g-rabbed 
their  rifles  and  pistols,  and  sallied  from  the  store. 
The  robbers,  finding-  themselves  in  a  hornets'  nest,  ran. 
By  the  uncertain  lig-ht  of  a  waning-  moon  the  Bar  was 
seen  covered  with  Chinamen  g-abbling-  and  wildly  g-es- 
ticulatin.g.  Over  the  river  two  men  were  swimming-. 
Keen,  from  the. bank,  pointed  his  revolver  at  one^  shut 


140 

his  eyes  and  fired.  One  of  the  men  crawled  out  of 
the  water  and  tumbkHl  in  a  heap  among-  the  boukku's. 
The  "'  bo3's  "  crossed,  and  found  there  a  strang-e  white 
man,  with  Keen's  bullet  through  his  backbone. 

I  experienced  about  the  narrowest  escape  of  my  life 
in  a  boat  during-  a  freshet  on  the  Tuolumne  crossing. 
I  counted  myself  a  good  river  boatman,  and  had  just 
ferried  over  a  Svvett's  Bar  miner.  He  had  come  to 
purchase  a  g-allon  of  the  native  juice  of  the  grape, 
which  was  then  grown,  pressed  and  sold  at  Red  Moun- 
tain Bar.  When  he  crossed  with  me  he  was  loadcnl 
with  it.  Some  of  it  was  outside  of  him  in  a  demijohn 
and  some  of  it  was  inside.  Indeed  it  was  inside  of  us 
both.  I  set  him  across  all  right.  On  returning,  by 
taking  advantage  of  a  certain  eddy,  one  could  be 
rushed  up  stream  counter  to  the  current  coming  down 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  at  a  very  rapid  rate.  It 
was  very  exciting  thus  to  be  carried  in  an  opposite 
direction,  within  ten  feet  of  the  great  billowy  swell 
coming  down.  It  was  a  sort  of  sliding-  down  hill  with- 
out the  trouble  of  drawing  one's  sled  up  again.  So  I 
went  up  and  dow^n  the  stream.  The  Red  Mountain 
wine  meantime  was  Avorking.  Night  came  on,  a  glori- 
ous moon  arose  over  tlie  mountain  tops,  and  I  kept 
sliding  up  and  down  the  Tuolumne.  I  became  more 
daring  and  careless.  So  that  suddenly  in  the  very 
fury  of  the  mid-stream  billow^s  I  slipped  off  the  stern 
sheets  at  a  sudden  dip  of  the  boat  arid  fell  into  the 
river.  I  was  heavily  clad  in  flannels  and  mining  boots. 
Of  my  stay  under  water  I  recollect  only  the  thought, 
"You're  hi  for  it  this  time.  Tliis  is  no  common  bap- 
tism/' The  next  I  knew  I  was  clinging  to  a  rock  half 
a  mile  below  the  scene  of  the  submergence.     I  had 


141 

been  swept  under  water  tliroug-li  the  Willow  Bar,  tlie 
walls  of  whose  rocky  channel,  chiselled  h}'  the  current 
of  centuries,  were  narrower  at  the  top  than  on  the 
river-bed,  and  throug-h  which  the  waters  swept  in  a 
succession  of  boils  and  whirlpools.  Wet  and  drippini::, 
I  tramped  to  the  nearest  cabin,  a  mile  and  a  half  dis- 
tant, and  stayed  there  that  nig-ht.  Red  Mountain  Bar, 
on  seeing-  the  misha}:),  gave  me  up  for  lost — all  but  one 
man,  who  was  negative  on  that  point  for  the  reason, 
as  he  alleged,  that  I  was  not*destined  to  make  the 
final  exit  by  water.  I  I'eappeared  the  next  morning 
at  the  Bar.  When  I  told  the  bo3^s  that  I  had  been 
swept  through  the  Willow  Bar  the^^  instituted  com- 
parisons of  similarity  in  the  matter  of  veracity  betwixt 
myself  and  Ananias  of  old.  It  Avas  the  current  im- 
pressions that  no  man  could  pass  through  the  Willow 
Bar  alive. 

Chinese  Camp,  five  miles  distant,  stood  as  the  me- 
tropolis for  Red  Mountain  Bar.  It  contained  but  a 
few  hundred  people.  Yet,  in  our  estimation  at  that 
time  it  bore  the  same  relative  importance  that  New 
York  does  to  some  agricultural  village  a  hundred 
miles  way.  Chinese  Camp  meant  restaurants,  where 
we  could  revel  in  the  luxur^^  of  eating  a  meal  we  were 
not  obliged  to  prepare  ourselves,  a  luxury  none  can 
fully  appreciate  save  those  who  have  served  for  years 
as  their  own  cooks.  Chinese  Camp  meant  saloons, 
palatial  as  compared  with  the  Bargroggery;  it  meant 
a  daily  mail  and  communication  with  the  great  world 
without;  it  meant  hotels,  where  strange  faces  might 
be  seen  daily;  it  meant,  perhaps,  above  all,  the  nightly 
fandango.  When  living  for  months  and  j^ears  in  such 
out-of-the-way  nooks  and  corners  as  Red  Mountain 


142 

Bar,  and  as  were  thousands  of  now  forg'otten  and 
nameless  flats,  g-ulches,  and  bars  in  California,  cut  otf 
from  all  reg-ular  communication  with  the  world,  where 
the  occasional  passag-e  of  some  strang-er  is  an  event, 
the  limited  stir  and  bustle  of  such  a  place  as  Chinese 
Camp  assumed  an  increased  importance  and  interest. 
Chinese  Camp  Justice  presided  at  our  lawsuits.  Chi- 
nese Cam  J)  was  the  Mecca  to  which  all  hands  resorted 
for  the  gTand  blow-out  at  the  close  of  the  river  mining 
season.  With  all  their  hard  work  what  independent 
times  were  those  after  all!  True,  claims  were  uncer- 
tain as  to  yield;  hopes  of  making-  fortunes  had  been 
given  over.  But  so  long  as  $1.50  or  $2  pickings  re- 
mained on  the  banks  men  were  comparatively  their 
own  masters.  There  w^as  none  of  the  inexorable  de  • 
mand  of  business  consequent  on  situation  and  employ- 
ment in  the  great  city,  where,  sick  or  well,  the  toilers 
must  hie  with  machine-like  regularity  at  the  earl^^ 
morning  hour  to  their  i)0!^ts  of  labor.  If  the  Red 
Mountaineer  didn't  "  feel  like  w^ork"  in  tlie  morning-  he 
didn't  work.  If  he  i^ref erred  to  commence  digging 
and  washing  at  ten  in  the  morning-  instead  of  seven, 
who  should  prevent  him?  If,  after  the  morning  labor, 
he  desired  a  siesta  till  two  in  the  afternoon,  it  was  his 
to  take. 

Of  what  Nature  could  give  there  was  much  at  the 
Bar  to  make  pleasant  man's  stay  on  earth,  save  a 
great  deal  of  cash.  We  enjoyed  a  mild  climate — no 
long,  hard  winters  to  provide  ag-ainst;  a  soil  that 
would  raise  almost  any  vegetable,  a  necessity  or  lux- 
ury, with  very  little  labor;  grapes  or  figs,  apples  or 
potatoes;  land  to  be  had  for  the  asking;  water  for 
irrigation  accessible  on  every  hand ;   plenty  of  pasture 


143 

room;  no  crowdiii£;\  A  quarter  of  a  section  of  such 
soil  and  climate,  within  forty  miles  of  New  York  City, 
would  he  Avorth  millions.  Contrast  such  a  land  with 
the  bleak  hills  about  Boston,  where  half  the  year  is 
spent  in  a  strui;-g'le  to  provide  for  the  other  half.  Yet 
we  were  all  anxious  to  g"et  away.  Our  heaven  was 
not  at  Red  Mountain.  Fortunes  could  not  be  digg-ed 
there.  We  spent  time  and  streng-th  in  a  scramble  for 
a  few  ounces  of  yellow  metal,  while  in  the  spring-  time 
the  vales  and  hillsides  covered  with  fliow^ers  arg-ued  in 
vain  that  the}'  had  the  g-ixnitest  rewards  for  our  picks 
and  shovels.  But  none  listened.  We  g'rovelled  in  the 
mud  and  stones  of  the  oft-woi'ked  hank'.  Yearly  it 
responded  less  and  less  to  our  labors.  One  b}'  one  the 
'''old-timers"  left.  The  boarding-iiouse  of  Dutch  Bill 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  Bar  lon.i^  stood  empty,  and 
the  meek-eyed  and  subtle  Chinaman  stole  from  its  sides 
board  after  board;  the  sides  skinned  off,  they  took 
joist  after  joist  from  the  framework.  None  ever  saw 
them  so  doing-.  Thus  silently  and  mystei-iously,  like  a 
melting-  snowbank,  the  giM^at,  ramshackle  boarding-* 
house  disappeared,  until  naug-ht  was  left  save  the 
chimney.  And  that  also  vanished  l)rick  by  brick.  All 
of  which  material  entered  into  the  composition  and 
construction  of  that  irreg-ularly  built,  smoke-tanned 
cong-lomerate  of  Chinese  huts  clustered  near  the  Keen 
Fann  castle. 

"  Old  Grizzly  "  McFarlane  Avent  a\vay.  So  did  Bloody 
Bill.  So  the  Bar's  population  dwindled.  Fewer  trav- 
ellers, dot-like,  were  seen  climbing-  the  steep  trail  o'er 
Red  Mountain.  Miller,  the  Chinese  Camp  news-ag-ent, 
who,  with  mailbag-s  well  filled  with  the  New  York 
papers,  had  for  years  cantered  from  Red  Mountain  to 


144 

Morg'an's  Bar,  einptyiiii^  liis  sack  as  he  went  at  tlie 
rate  of  fifty  and  twenty-five  cents  per  slieet,  paid  tlie 
Bar  liis  last  visit  and  closed  out  tlie  newspaper  busi- 
ness there  forever.  Then  tlie  County  Supervisors 
aholislied  it  as  an  election  precinct,  and  its  name  no 
loni^-er  figured  in  the  returns.  No  more  after  the  vote 
was  polled  and  the  result  known  did  the  active  and 
ambitious  partisan  mount  his  horse  and  gallop  over 
the  mountain  to  Sonora,  the  county  seat,  twenty  miles 
away,  to  deliver  the  official  count,  sig-ned,  sealed  and 
attested  by  the  local  Red  Mountain  Election  Inspectors. 
Finally  the  Bar  dwindled  to  Thompson,  Keen  Fann 
and  his  Mongolian  band.  Then  Thompson  left.  Keen 
Fann  g-rieved  at  losing  his  friend  and  protector.  He 
came  on  the  eve  of  departure  to  the  dismantled  store. 
Tears  were  in  his  e3^es.  He  presented  Thompson  with 
a  basket  of  tea  and  a  silver  half-dollar,  and  bade  him 
farewell  in  incoherent  and  intranslatable  words  of 
lamenting  polyglot  English. 


145 


CHAPTER  ^XVIIL 

MY   CALIFORNIA   SCHOOL. 

I  WAS  not  coiiiklont  of  1113^  ability  to  teach  even  a 
-' common  school"  wiien  the  situation  was  olTered  me 
in  a  Uttle  Tuolumne  County  mining*  camp.  I  said  so 
to  my  okl  friend,  Pete  H.,  who  luid  secured  me  the 
position.  "Well,"  said  he,  after  a  reflective  pause, 
"do  you  retain  a  clear  recollection  of  the  twent^'-six 
letters  of  the  alphabet  ?  For  if  3'ou  do,  you  are  equal 
to  any  educational  demand  this  camp  will  make  on 
you." 

It  was  a  reckless  "camp."  No  phase  of  life  was 
viewed  or  treated  seriously.  They  did  walk  their 
horses  to  th<'  grave  slowly  at  a  funeral,  but  liow  they 
did  race  back! 

It  was  legally  necessary,  however,  tliat  I  should  be 
examined  as  to  my  ability  by  the  school  trustees. 
These  were  Dr.  D.,  Bill  K.,  a  saloon-keeper,  and  Tom 
J.,  a  miner.  I  met  them  in  the  Justice's  office.  The 
doctor  Avas  an  impoi-tant  appearing  man,  rotund,  pom- 
pous, well-di'cssed,  and  spectacled.  He  glared  at  me 
with  an  expression  betwixt  sadness  and  sevei'ity.  I 
saw  he  was  to  be  the  chief  inquisitor.  I  expected  from 
him  a  searching  examination,  and  trembled.  It  was 
years  since  I  had  seen  a  school-book.  I  knew  that  in 
geography  I  was  rusty  and  in  mathematics  musty. 

Before  the  doctor  lay  one  thin  book.     It  turned  out 


JIG 

to  be  a  spelling-  book.  The  doctor  opened  it,  glared  on 
me  leisurely,  and  finall^^  said :  "  Spell  cat."  I  did  so. 
"  Spell  hat."  I  spelled.  "  Rat,"  said  the  doctor,  with 
a  look  of  explosive  fierceness  and  in  a  tone  an  octave 
hig-her.  I  spelled,  and  then  remarked:  "  But,  doctor, 
you  surely  must  know  that  I  can  spell  words  of  one 
s^^llable?"  ''I  don't,"  he  shouted,  and  propounded 
"  mat  "  for  me  to  spell,  with  an  increase  of  energy  in 
his  voice,  and  so  went  on  until  I  had  so  spelled  long 
enough  to  amuse  him  and  the  othei-  two  trustee  triflers. 
Then  he  shut  the  book,  saying:  "Young  man,  you'll 
do  for  our  camp.  I  wouldn't  teach  that  school  for 
$5,000  a  year;  and  there  are  two  boys  3'ou'll  have  for 
scholars  that  I  advise  you  to  kill,  if  possible,  tlie  first 
week.     Let's  all  go  over  and  take  a  drink." 

My  school  house  was  th<^  cliurch,  built  and  paid  for 
partly  by  the  gamblers  and  partly  b}'  the  good  people 
of  Jimtown  "  for  the  use  of  all  sects  "  on  Sundays,  and 
for  educational  purposes  on  week  da^'s. 

I  was  shut  up  in  that  little  church  six  hours  a  day 
with  sixty  children  and  youths,  ranging  from  four  to 
eighteen  years  of  age.  In  summer  it  was  'a  fiercely 
hot  little  church.  The  mercur^^  was  always  near  90 
by  noon,  and  sometimes  over  100,  and  3^ou  could  at 
times  hear  the  shingles  split  and  crack  on  the  roof  of 
the  cathedral.  A  few  3^ears  of  interior  California  sum- 
mers' suns  will  turn  unpainted  boards  and  shingles  al- 
most as  black  as  charcoal. 

The  majorit3^  of  iny  pupils'  parents  being  from  New 
England  and  North  America,  they  brought  and  car- 
ried into  effect  all  their  North  American  ideas  of  edu- 
cation. The  California  summer  heat  is,  I  think,  unfit 
for  educational  purposes.     It  is  too  hot  to  herd  sixty 


147 

restloss  children  tog-ether  six  hours  a  day.  They 
proved  this  in  several  cases.  Some  fell  sick  suddenh\ 
Some  fainted.  But  this  made  no  dilTerence.  The 
school  went  on  in  all  its  misery.  I  sent  a  fainting- 
child  home  one  daj^and  the  father  returned  with  it  an 
hour  afterward.  He  was  fierce,  and  said  he  wanted 
his  child  kept  in  school  when  he  sent  it  to  school. 

This  was  in  California's  earty  days.  My  scholars  were 
the  children  of  the  Argonauts,  and  in  some  cases  had 
come  out  with  them.  There  was  then  no  regular  s^'s- 
tem  of  text-books.  Publishers  had  not  commenced 
making"  fortunes  by  g-etting-  out  a  new  school-book  s^^s- 
tem  every  three  years. 

My  scholars  came,  bring:ing-  a  g-reat  varietj^  of  school- 
books.  They  brought  *'  Pike's  Arithmetic,^'  which  had 
come  over  the  i:)lains,  and  "  Smith's  Geography,'' which 
had  sailed  around  Cai^e  Horn.  Seldom  were  two  alike. 
But  the  g-reatest  variety  lay  in  g-rammai's.  There  was 
a  reg-ular  nuiseum  of  Eng-lish  g-rammars,  Avhose  authors 
foug-ht  each  other  with  different  I'ules  and  called  the 
various  parts  of  speech  by  dilTerent  names.  I  accounted 
for  the  g-reat  variety  of  grammars  on  the  supposition 
that  it  is  or  was  the  ambition  of  a  larg-e  proportion  of 
schoolmasters  to  write  a  work  on  g-rammar  before 
they  died  and  say:  "I  have  left  another  grammar  to 
bless  and  confuse  posterity." 

Besides  bring'ing-  grammars,  most  of  the  bo^^s 
broug'ht  dog-s.  Dogs  of  nuxny  breeds  and  sizes  hovered 
around  the  school-house.  They  wanted  frequently  to 
come  in,  and  did  often  come  in,  to  sneak  under  the 
seats  and  lay  themselves  at  their  masters'  feet.  I  had 
frequently  to  kick  or  order  them  out,  and  I  noticed 
that  w^henever  a  dog  was  chased  out  he  would  take 


148 

the  loncrest  road  to  get  out  and  under  as  iiiany  seats  as 
possible,  in  order  to  receive  as  many  kicks  as  ijossible 
from  the  youthful  owners  of  the  other  dog's. 

I  could  not  so  organize  a  battalion  of  ten  different 
grammars  as  to  act  in  concert  on  my  grammar  class 
of  twenty  pupils.  So  I  put  them  all  on  the  retired  list 
and  tried  to  teach  this  so-called  "'science"  orally.  I 
chalked  the  rules  on  the  blackboaid,  as  well  as  the 
names  of  the  different  parts  of  speech.  I  made  my 
scholars  commit  these  to  juemory,  standing,  although 
I  will  not  ai-gue  tliat  memory  takes  an^^  stronger  grip 
on  a  thing  while  the  i3ui:)il  stands.  At  last  I  taught  a 
few  Avith  good  memories  to  "  parse."  I  worked  hard 
with  that  grammar  class,  and  was  very  proud  of  their 
proficiency  until  I  found  that  after  months  of  this  drill- 
ing they  neither  spoke  nor  wrote  any  better  English 
than  before.  However,  I  lost  nothing  by  this  experi- 
ence, for  it  helped  me  to  the  conviction  I  have  held  to 
ever  since,  that  the  entire  grammar  system  and 
method  does  very  little  to  make  one  habitually  use 
correct  language,  and  that  a  taste  for  reading  and 
constant  association  with  correct  English-speaking 
people  does  a  great  deal.  As  for  spending  time  in 
"  parsing,"  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  use  that  force 
in  learning  the  bo}^  to  shoe  horses  and  the  gii^l  to  make 
bread,  or  let  the  girl  shoe  the  liorses  if  she  wants  to 
and  the  boy  make  the  bread. 

The  labor  of  teaching  the  alphabet  to  ten  infants, 
calling  them  up  once  an  hour  "  to  say  their  letters," 
is,  in  my  estimation,  greater  than  that  of  swinging  a 
pick  in  the  surface  gold  "diggings."  I  have  tried 
both,  and  inflniteh^  prefer  the  pick.  It  is  not  so  nmch 
woi'k  when  you  are  employed  with  them  as  when  you 


149 

are  occupied  with  the  other  pupils.  Then  these  poor 
little  alphabetical  cherubs  can  do  nothing"  but  squirm 
on  their  low  benches,  catch  flies,  pinch  each  other, 
make  and  project  spit-balls  and  hold  up  their  hands 
for  another  drink  of  water.  I  could  not  let  them  out 
of  doors  to  play  in  the  sand,  Avhere  they  should  have 
been,  because  the  North  American  parent  would  have 
considei'ed  himself  as  defrauded  of  a  part  of  his  infant's 
schooling*  were  the}^  not  imprisoned  the  whole  six 
hours. 

Neither  can  you  set  a  child  to  studying  A  or  M  or 
any  other  letter.  There  is  not  an  idea  in  A  or  B. 
During  the  two  years  of  m^^  administration  I  wrought 
with  one  child  who  never  could  get  successfully  be^^ond 
F.  Her  parents  ciuestioned  my  ability  as  a  teacher. 
Some  days  she  would  repeat  the  whole  alphabet  cor- 
rectly. I  would  go  home  with  a  load  off  my  mind. 
The  next  day  her  mind  would  relapse  into  an  alpha- 
betical blank  after  F.  She  grew  to  be  an  eyesore  to  me. 
The  sight  of  her  at  last  made  me  sick. 

I  held  public  examinations  every  six  months,  and 
was  careful  to  do  all  the  examining  myself.  An  inter- 
loper among  tlie  audience  I  invited  did  me  great  dam- 
age on  one  of  these  memorized  performances  by  asking 
a  simple  arithmetical  question  of  the  show-ofT  geo- 
graphical boy.  The  urchin  was  brilliant  in  dealing- 
with  boundary  lines,  capes,  and  islands,  but  his  head 
was  one  that  mathematics  could  not  readily  be  in- 
jected into.  On  the  other  hand,  m^^  specimen  gram- 
marian was  as  likel}^  to  d;>scribe  an  island  as  a  body 
of  land  surrounded' — by  land  as  by  water.  I  liad  no 
heart  to  And  fault  with  this  poor  barefooted  urchin 
who,  when  in  class,  was  always  trying  to  stand  on  one 


150 

leg"  like  a  crane,  and  sending*  Ids  rig-lit  big-  toe  on  ex- 
ploring-scratching- expeditions  np  his  left  trouser.  He 
had  been  born  and  brought  up  in  an  inland  country, 
where  no  body  of  water  was  to  be  seen  save  an  occa- 
sional fleeting-  mud  puddle;  and  what  earthly  concep- 
tion could  he  form  of  the  ocean  and  its  islands  ? 

But  the  parents  who  attended  these  exhibitions  of 
stufTed  memories  were  struck  at  the  proficiency  of  the 
]orog'en3^,  and  retired  with  the  impression  that  their 
children  knew  a  g-reat  deal  because  they  had  parroted 
off  so  much  that  was  all  Greek  to  them;  and  after  I 
had  been  in  this  occupation  a  year  I  would  sit  in  my 
empty  theolog-ical  school-house  when  they  had  g-one 
and  try  and  convict  myself  as  a  profound  humbug-,  and 
one,  too,  compelled,  in  order  to  get  a  living-,  to  encour- 
ag-e  and  foster  a  system  which  had  so  much  humbug- 
in  it. 

The  California  scliools  were  not  then  "  g-raded."  They 
were  conducted  on  the  "g-o-as-^^ou-please"  plan,  some- 
times g-oing-  as  the  teachers  pleased,  sometimes  as  the 
parents  pleased,  sometimes  as  the  pupils  pleased.  The 
parents  of  the  youthful  brains  I  was  trying-  to  develop 
into  future  statesmen  and  presidents  wanted  me  to 
teach  many  things.  One  father  wished  his  son  taug-iit 
Latin.  It  is  bringing-  extremes  pretty  near  each  otlier 
to  teach  Latin  and  A  B  C's.  But  I  ^^ taught"  the 
young  man  Latin  as  I  was  "taught"  many  things  at 
school.  I  started  him  committing  to  memory  the 
Latin  declensions  and  conjugations,  and  then  heard 
him  "say  his  lesson."  If  he  got  anything  out  of  it  I 
didn't  know  what  it  was,  except  tough  work.  He  never 
reached  any  translations  of  the  classics,  for  several 
reasons. 


151 

Another  father  Avas  annoyed  because  I  exercised  his 
son  mathematically  in  what,  in  those  days,  were  called 
"  vid<^"ar  fractions."  "  I  don't  want,"  said  he,  "  my  son 
to  have  anything-  to  do  with  fractions,  anyway.  Theyr'e 
no  use  in  bizness.  Ennything-  over  half  a  cent  we  call 
a  cent  on  the  books,  and  enny thing-  under  it  we  don't 
call  nothin'.  But  I  want  Thomas  to  be  Avell  g-rounded 
in  'tare  and  tret.'" 

So  I  grounded  Thomas  in  'tare  and  tret.'  He  grew 
up,  took  to  evil  ways,  and  Avas  hung-  by  a  vigilance 
committee  somewhere  in  Southern  California.  A  boy 
wlio  stammered  very  badly  was  sent  me.  I  was  ex- 
pected to  cure  him.  Five' or  six  of  my  pupils  were 
Mexicans,  and  spoke  very  little  Eng-lish. 

One  of  my  hardest  trials  was  a  g-reat  stout  boy,  so 
full  of  vitality  that  he  could  not  remain  quiet  at  his 
desk.  I  could  not  blame  him.  He  had  force  enoug-h 
inside  of  hiui  to  run  a  steam  eng-ine.  It  would  have 
vent  ill  some  direction.  But  it  would  not  expend  itself 
in  "  leaiMiing-  lessons."  He  would  work  his  books  into 
a  mass  of  dog-'s  ears.  His  writings  book  was  ever  in 
mourning-  with  ink  stains.  His  face  was  g-enerally  \i\ky. 
His  inkstand  was  g-enerally  upset.  He  Avould  hold  a 
pen  as  he  would  a  pitchfork.  He  seemed  also  to  giv^ 
out  his  vitality  when  he  came  to  school  and  infect  all 
the  others  with  it.  He  was  not  a  regnilar  scholar. 
He  was  sent  only  when  it  was  an  "otf  day"  on  his 
father's  "ranch."  In  the  scholastic  sense  he  learned 
notliing". 

But  that  boy  at  the  ag-e  of  fifteen  would  drive  his 
father's  two-horse  wag-on,  loaded  with  fruit  and  vege- 
tables, 150  miles  from  California  to  Nevada  over  the 
roug-h  mountain  roads  of  the  Sierras,  sell  the  produce 


152 

to  the  silver  miners  of  Aurora  and  adjacent  camps, 
and  return  safely  home.  He  was  oblig'od  in  places  to 
camp  out  at  nig"ht,  cook  for  himself,  look  out  for  his 
stock,  repair  harness  or  wagon  and  keep  an  e^'e  out 
for  skulking-  Indians,  who,  if  not  "  hostile,"  were  not 
saints.  When  it  came  to  using  the  hand  and  the  head 
together  he  had  in  him  ''  go,"  "  gumption  "  and  execu- 
tive ability,  and  none  of  my  "teaching"  put  it  where 
it  Avas  in  him,  either.  He  may  have  grown  up  "un- 
polished," but  he  is  one  of  the  kind  who  are  at  this 
moment  liiring  polished  and  s-jcliolarly  men  to  do  worlv 
for  them  on  wry  small  wages. 

I  do  not  despise"  polish  "and  "culture,'  hut  is  there 
not  an  education  now  necessary  which  shall  give  the 
child  some  clearer  idea  of  the  manner  in  Avhich  it  must 
cope  with  the  worki  in  a  few  years  ?  The  land  to-day 
is  full  of  "culture"  at  ten  dollars  a  week.  Culture 
gives  polish  to  the  blade.  But  it  is  not  the  process 
Avhich  makes  the  hard,  well-tempered  steel. 

The  "smartest"  boy  in  my  school  gave  me  even 
more  trouble  than  the  son  of  the  rancher.  He  could 
commit  to  memorA'  as  much  in  ten  minutes  as  the 
others  could  in  an  hour,  and  the  balance  of  tlie  time 
lie  was  working  oil  the  Satanism  with  Avhich  he  was 
lilled.  His  memor}'  was  an  omnivorous  maw.  It 
would  take  in  anything  and  eA'erything  with  the  small- 
est amount  of  application.  It  would  have  required 
two-thirds  of  my  time  to  feed  this  voracious  and  mis- 
chievous little  monster  with  books  for  his  uuMuory  to 
devour. 

But  he  was  not  the  boy  to  drive  a  team  tlirough 
a  wild  countr}^  and  dispose  of  the  load  in  Nevada, 
though  lie  could  on    such  a  ti'ip  have  committed   to 


153 

memoiy  several  liundred  words  per  day  on  any  sub- 
ject, wliether  he  understood  it  or  not. 

My  young-  lady  pupils  also  g-ave  me  a  g-reat  deai  of 
trouble.  The}^  were  ver\'  independent,  and  for  tliis 
reason :  Girls,  even  of  fifteen,  were  very  scarce  then  in 
the  mines.  So  were  women  of  any  marriageable  age. 
There  were  ten  men  to  one  woman  The  result  was 
that  anything"  humanly  feminine  was  very  valuable, 
much  sought  after  and  made  much  of  by  men  of  all 
ages,  ^[y  girls  of  fifteen,  as  to  life  and  association, 
were  grown-up  women.  Young"  miners  and  middle- 
ag'ed,  seun-l)aldheaded  miners,  who  did  not  realize  how 
many  of  their  y(\ars  had  slipped  away  since  they  came 
out  from  the  "  States,"  took  these  g-irls  to  balls  and 
whirled  them  by  nig-ht  over  the  dusty  roads  of  Tuo- 
lumne County  in  dusty  bug*gries. 

It  was  difficult  for  one  lone  man,  and  he  only  a 
schoolmaster,  to  enfoix-e  discipline  with  these  prema- 
turely matured  children,  who  had  an  average*  of  two 
chances  a  month  to  marry,  and  who  felt  like  any  other 
woman  their  power  and  influence  with  the  other  sex. 
Half  of  them  did  have  a  prospective  husband  in  some 
brawny  pick-sling'er,  Avho  never  went  abroad  without 
a  battery  of  portable  small  artillery  slung*  at  his  waist, 
and  who  was  half-jealous,  half-envious  of  the  school- 
master for  what  he  considered  the  privileg-e  of  being* 
in  the  same  room  with  his  future  wife  six  hours  a  day. 

One  needs  to  live  in  a  country  wher(5  tliere  is  a  dearth 
of  women  to  realize  these  situations.  When  my  school 
was  dismissed  at  four  o'clock  p.m.,  all  the  unemployed 
chivalry  of  "  Jimtown  "  massed  on  the  street  corner  at 
the  Bella  Union  saloon  to  see  this  coveted  bevy  of 
California   rosebuds   pass   on  their  Ava}^  home.      The 


154 

Bella  Union,  by  the  way,  was  only  a  few  yards  from 
the  church.  Extremes  got  very  close  tog-ether  in  tliese 
mining  camps.  But  the  frequenters  of  the  Bella  Union, 
who  gambled  all  night  on  the  arid  green  baize  of  the 
monte  table,  had  more  than  half  paid  for  that  church, 
and,  I  infer,  wanted  it  iu  sight  so  that  no  other  per- 
suasion should  I'un  oil"  with  it.  I  was  glad  when  these 
girls  got  married  and  entered  another  school  of  life, 
where  I  knew  within  a  year's  time  they  w^ere  likely  to 
have  a  master. 

I  was  once  "  barred  out "  at  the  close  of  a  summer 
term.  This  was  a  fashion  imiported  from  the  extreme 
southwestern  part  of  what  some  call  "Our  Beloved 
Union."  Returning  from  dinner  I  found  the  doors  and 
windows  of  the  university  closed  against  me.  I  par- 
le^x'd  at  one  of  the  windows  a  few  feet  from  the  ground. 
I  was  met  by  a  delegation  of  the  two  biggest  boys. 
They  informed  me  I  could  get  in  by  coming  out  with  a 
disbursement  of  $2.50,  to  treat  the  school  to  nuts,  can- 
dies, and  cakes.  I  did  not  accede,  smashed  the  window 
and  Avent  in.  Most  of  the  undergraduates  went  sud- 
denl3^  out.  I  clinched  with  the  biggest  boy.  The  other, 
like  a  coward,  ran  away.  The  two  together  could 
easily  have  mastered  me.  Order  was  restored.  The 
mutiny  did  not  hang  well  together.  It  was  not  a  good 
"  combine."  The  Northern-bred  scholars  did  not  quite 
understand  this  move,  and  did  not  really  enter  heartily 
into  it.  Their  backing  had  been  forced  by  the  two  big 
boys,  and  therefore  had  not  good  stuff  in  it. 

The  big  boy  had  a  cut  face.  So  had  I.  His  still 
bigger  brother  met  me  a  few  days  after  and  wanted 
to  pick  a  quarrel  with  me  about  the  affair.  A  quarrel 
with  his  class  always  lay  within  eas^^  approach  of  knife 


155 

or  pistol.  Besides,  I  was  a  Yankee.  He  was  a  Texan. 
And  this  was  in  18G2,  Avhen  the  two  sections  in  Cali- 
fornia were  neighbors,  but  not  very  warm  friends,  and 
about  equal  in  numbers. 

I  was  discreet  with  this  gentleman,  if  not  valorous, 
and  think  under  the  same  circumstances  now  I  should 
kike  the  same  course.  I  do  not  believe  in  taking  great 
risks  with  a  ruffian  because  he  abuses  you. 

My  successor,  poor  fellow,  did  not  get  off  as  easily 
as  I  did.  He  corrected  the  son  of  another  gentleman 
from  the  South.  The  gentleman  called  at  the  school- 
house  the  next  day,  asked  him  to  the  door  and  cracked 
jiis  skull  with  the  butt  of  his  revolver.  The  risks  then 
of  imparting  knowledge  to  the  young  were  great. 
School  teaching  now  in  the  mines  is,  I  imagine,  a  tame 
a  Ifair  compared  with  that  past,  so  full  of  golden  dreams 
and  leaden  realities. 

If  I  could  have  taken  that  portion  of  my  scholars 
who  were  beyond  the  A,  B,  C  business  to  a  shady  grove 
of  hve  oaks  near  by  and  talked  to  them  for  an  hour  or 
two  a  day,  devoting  each  day  to  some  special  subject, 
at  the  same  time  encouraging  questions  from  them,  I 
believe  I  could  have  woke  up  more  that  was  sleeping 
in  their  minds  in  a  week  than  I  did  in  a  month  by  the 
cut-nnd-dried  system  I  was  obliged  to  follow.  I  would 
have  taken  them  out  of  sight  of  the  schoolhouse,  the 
desks  and  all  thereunto  appertaining,  which  to  most 
children  suggests  a  species  of  imprisonment.  I  think 
that  amount  of  time  and  effort  is  enough  in  one  day 
for  both  teacher  and  pupil.  It  would  not  be  trifling 
work  if  one's  heart  was  in  it,  short  as  the  time  em- 
ployed may  seem,  because  a  teacher  must  teach  Inm- 
self  to  teach.     Knowing  a  thing  is  not  always  being 


156 

able  to  make  it  plain  to  otliers.  The  g-ifted  dunderhead 
who  tried  to  teach  ine  to  play  whist  commenced  hv 
sayini;":  "Now  that's  a  heart,  and  hearts  is  trumps, 
you  know,"  and  went  on  with  the  i^'ame,  deeming-  he 
]i:ul  made  things  clear  enough  for  anybody. 

Woukl  not  one  topic  to  talk  about  be  enough  for  one 
day  ?  Take  the  motive  power  of  steam  the  first  day, 
the  cause  of  rain  the  second,  the  flight  of  birds  and 
their  structure  for  flying  the  third,  the  making  of  soil 
aiul  its  removal  from  mountain  to  plain  the  fourth,  a 
talk  on  coal  or  some  other  kind  of  mining  the  fifth,  and 
so  on.  Would  not  subjects  continually  suggest  them- 
selves to  the  interested  teacher?  And  if  you  do  get 
one  idea  or  suggestion  per  day  in  the  scholar's  mind, 
is  nat  that  a  good  day's  work  ?  How  many  of  us  wise, 
grown-up  people  can  retire  at  night  saying,  "  I  have 
learned  a  new  thing  to-day  ?" 

But  I  am  theorizing.  I  have  placed  myself  in  the 
ranks  of  those  disagreeable,  meddlesome  people  who 
are  never  satisfied  with  present  methods.  So  I  will 
say  that  I  do  not  imagine  that  my  sugg'estions  will 
I't'volutionize  our  educational  system,  based  rather 
heavily  on  the  idea  that  youth  is  the  time,  and  the  only 
time,  to  learn  ever^^thing-,  and  also  to  learn  a  great 
many  things  at  a  time.  In  after  years,  wlien  we  set- 
tle down  to  our  work,  we  tr^^  as  a  rule,  to  learn  but 
one  thing  at  a  time.  Hoav  would  a  man  stagger  along- 
if  it  was  required  of  him  five  days  out  of  seven  to  learn 
a  bit  of  painting,  then  of  horseshoeing,  then  of  printing, 
and  top  olf  with  a  slice  of  elocution  ?  It  seems  to  me 
like  an  overcrowding  of  the  upper  intellectual  stor3% 


157 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

"  JIMTOWN." 

On  tlioso  hot  July  ami  Aug'u.st  afternoons,  wlien  the 
air  simmered  all  alon.i^*  the  heated  earth,  and  I  was 
ti'vini^  to  keep  awake  in  my  seminary  on  the  hill,  and 
wrestling'  with  the  mercury  at  100  deg.  and  ni}^  sixty 
polyglot  pupils,  the  grown  up  "  boys"  would  be  tilted 
hack  in  their  chairs  under  the  portico  and  against  the 
cool  brick  wall  of  the  Bella  Union.  They  did  not  work, 
but  they  spun  yarns.  How  half  the  boys  lived  was  a 
mystery — as  much  a  mystery,  I  do  believe,  to  them- 
selves as  any  one  else.  8ome  owned  quartz  claims, 
some  horses,  and  all  ran  regularly  for  oOice.  They  be- 
longed to  the  stamp  of  men  who  worked  and  mined  in 
earlier  times,  but  come  what  might,  they  had  resolved 
to  work  in  that  way  no  longer.  And  when  such  re- 
solve is  accompanied  by  determination  and  an  active, 
planning,  inventive  brain,  the  man  gets  a  long  somehow. 
It  is  speculation  that  makes  fortunes,  and  plan,  calcu- 
lation, and  forethought  for  speculation,  require  leisure 
of  body.  A  hard-working,  ten-hour-per-day  digging, 
delving  miner  works  all  his  brains  out  through  his  fin- 
gers' ends.  He  has  none  left  to  speculate  with.  When 
I  w^as  mining  at  Swett's  Bar,  there  came  one  day  to 
my  cabin  a  long,  lean,  lank  man  ooking  iof  a  lost  cow. 
The  cow  and  the  man  belonged  near  Jacksonville, 
twelve  miles  up  the  Tuoluume.     I  dined  that  man  prin- 


ir>8 

cipally  ofT  some  broad  of  nw  own  making,  and  I  had 
tho  name  then  of  makini^  the  best  bivad  of  any  one  in 
\\w  liouse,  where  I  lived  alone.  After  dinner  the  man 
sat  himself  down  on  one  bouldt^r  and  I  on  another, 
and  I  asked  him  if  he  had  a  i;-ood  claim.  Tliat  roused 
him  to  wrath.  He  had,  it  seems,  just  reached  the  last 
point  of  his  disg'ust  for  hard  work  and  mining".  Said 
he:  "Don't  talk  to  me  of  a  good  claim;  don't.  It 
sounds  like  speaking*  of  a  good  guillotine,  or  a  beauti- 
ful halter,  or  an  elegant  rack  you're  about  to  be 
stretched  on."  He  had  gone  through  his  probation  of 
hard  work  with  his  hands  and  had  just  resoU'ed  to  let 
them  rest  and  give  his  head  a  chance  to  speculate.  So 
he  did.  I  don't  know  that  he  ever  met  the  cow  again, 
but  eight  or  nine  ^x'ars  after  I  met  him  in  the  Legisla- 
ture of  California.  He  sat  m  the  big"gest  chair  there, 
and  was  Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  State. 

In  18G0  the  certain  class  of  men  of  whom  I  speak 
were  in  a  transition  state.  The^^  had  left  off  workiug 
with  their  liands  and  they  wei'e  waiting*  for  something 
to  turn  up  on  which  to  commence  working*  with  their 
heads.  While  thus  waiting  they  became  boys  and 
played.  The  cliuuiteand  surroundings  were  eminently 
favorable  to  this  languid,  loafing  condition  of  existence, 
no  long,  sharp  winters  forcing  people  to  bestir  them- 
selves and  provide  against  its  severities;  little  style  to 
keep  up;  few  families  to  maintain;  no  disgrace  for  a 
man  to  cook  his  own  victuals;  houses  dropping  to 
pieces;  little  new  paint  anywhere  to  make  one's  e3'es 
smart;  gates  dropping  from  their  hinges;  few  munici- 
pal improvements,  with  accompanying  heavy  taxes, 
and  that  bright  summer  sun  for  months  and  months 
shining  over  all  and  tempting  everybody  to  be  perma- 


nently  tii'od  and  seek  the  shade.  The  boys  foriiot  their 
years;  tliey  dreamed  away  their  days;  they  i^'ossipped 
all  the  cool  iiig:ht;  they  shook  off  di.n'iiity ;  they  played ; 
they  built  Avaterwheels  in  the  ditch  I'liniiing-  by  the 
Bella  Union  door;  they  instituted  ridiculous  fictions 
and  converted  them  into  realities;  they  instituted  a 
company  for  the  importation  of  smoke  in  pound  pack- 
ag^es  into  Jamestown;  Muldoon  was  President  and  the 
"Doctor*^  Secretary.  It  was  brouij^ht  b}"  a  steamer 
up  Wood's  Creek;  the  steamer  was  wi-ecked  on  a  dam 
a  mile  below  town;  the  company  met  day  after  day 
in  old  Nielsen's  saloon  to  consult;  the  smoke  was  finally 
taken  to  Jamestown  and  sold ;  the  proceeds  were  stored 
in  sacks  at  the  express  office;  there  was  an  embezzle- 
ment consequent  on  the  settlement;  the  monej^,  all  in 
ten-cent  pieces,  was  finally  deposited  in  the  big- wooden 
mortar  over  Baker's  drug-  store;  this  the  "Doctor" 
was  accused  of  embezzling",  having  time  after  time 
climbed  up  the  mortar  and  abstracted  the  funds  dime 
after  dime  and  spent  them  for  whiskey.  Then  came  a 
lawsuit.  Two  mule  teams  freighted  with  lawyers  for 
the  plaintitl  and  defendant  were  coming  from  Stockton, 
and  the  Pound  Package  Smoke  Company  met  day 
after  da^^  in  preparation  for  the  great  trial.  This  fic- 
tion lasted  about  four  months,  and  amused  everybody 

except  Captain  James  S ,  an  ex-Sheriff  of  the  count3% 

who,  being  a  little  deaf,  and  catching  fi-om  time  to 
time  words  of  great  financial  import  regarding  the 
Pound  Package  Jamestown  Smoke  Company,  as  they 
dropped  from  Muldoon's  and  the  "  Doctor's  "  mouths, 
and  being  thereby  time  after  time  misled  into  a  tem- 
porary belief  that  this  fiction  was  a  reality,  and  so 
often  becoming  irritated  at  finding  himself  ridiculously 


IGO 

mistaken,  burst  out  upon  these  two  wortliies  one 
day  with  all  the  wrath  becoming'  the  dignity  of  a 
Virg'inia  g-entleman,  and  denounced  them  profanely 
and  otherwise  for  their  fiivolity  and  puerility. 

Another  specimen  thinker  and  speculator  of  that  era 
was  Carroll.  He,  too,  had  forever  thrown  aside  pick 
and  shovel,  and  when  I  met  him  he  was  a  confirmed 
"  tilter-back  "  under  the  Bella  Union  portico.  Carroll 
was  the  theorist  of  Jamestown.  He  broached  new  ones 
daily;  he  talked  them  to  everybody  in  Jamestown,  ajid 
after  making'  clean  work  of  that  hamlet  would  go  uj) 
to  Sonora  and  talk  there,  and  lastly'  published  them  in 
the  Union  Democraf.  Said  Carroll  one  Monday  morn- 
ing- to  the  Presbyterian  domine:  "Mr.  H ,  I  heard 

30ur  sermon  yesterday  on  ^Heaven.'  You  arg-ue,  I 
think,  that  heaven  is  really  a  place.  I  think  it  ought 
to  be  a  place,  too.  I've  been  thinking'  about  it  all 
nig-ht.  I'm  satisfied  not  only  that  it  is  a  place,  but 
that  I've  g'ot  at  the  locality,  or  at  least  have  approxi- 
mated to  it.  I've  reasoned  this  out  on  purely  scientific 
data,  and  here  tlie^^  are.  We  have  an  atmosphere,  and 
they  say  it  is  from  thirty-three  to  forty-five  miles  high. 
Ang-els  only  live  in  heaven,  and  ang-els  have  wing's.  If 
ang-els  have  wings,  it's  proof  that  they  must  have  an 
atmosphere  to  fly  in.  Now,  the  only  atmosphere  we 
are  sure  of  is  that  around  the  earth.  Therefore,  put- 
ting- all  these  facts  and  conclusions  tog-ether,  Fve  proved 
to  myself  that  heaven  must  be  from  thirty-three  to 
fort^'-five  miles  from  the  g'round  we  stand  on.'' 

On  commencing*  my  pedag'ogical  career,  I  rented  a 
room  of  Carroll.  He  owned  at  that  time  a  quantity 
of  real  c^state  in  Jamestown,  some  of  which,  including' 
the  premises  I  occupied,  Avas  falling-  rapidly  and  liter- 


IGl 

ally  on  his  hands.  The  house  I  lived  in  was  propped 
up  several  feet  from  the  g-round.  The  neighbors' 
chickens  fed  under  this  house  from  the  crumbs  swept 
tliroug-h  the  cracks  in  the  floor.  It  was  an  easy  house 
to  sweep  clean.  Rumor  said  tliat  during  my  land- 
lord's occupancy  of  these  rooms  man^^  chickens  had 
strangely  disappeared,  and  that  pistol  shots  had  been 
heard  from  the  interior  oi  the  house.  The  floor  cracks 
did  show  powder  marks,  and  there  was  an  unaccoun- 
table quantitj^  of  feathers  blowing  about  the  yard.  In 
a  conversation  with  my  landlord  he  admitted  that  his 
boomerang  could  beat  a  six-shooter  in  fetching  a 
chicken.  Then  he  showed  me  his  boomerang,  which 
was  of  accidental  construction,  being  the  only  remain- 
ing leg  and  round  of  an  oaken  arm-chair.  Properly 
shied,  he  said,  it  would  kill  a  chicken  at  twenty  yards. 
French  Joe,  who  kept  the  grocery  next  to  Keefe's  sa- 
loon, and  it  was  in  Jimtown  a  current  report  that 
Carroll  and  Joe  had  once  invited  the  Catholic  priest. 
Father  A ,  from  Sonora  to  dinner;  that  the  back- 
bone of  this  dmner  was  a  duck;  that  at  or  about  this 
time  Mrs.  Hale,  five  doors  down  the  street,  had  missed 
one  of  her  flock  of  ducks;  that  on  the  morning  of  the 
dinner  in  question  a  strong  savor  of  parboihng  duck 
permeated  all  that  part  of  Jamestown  lying  between 
Joe's  and  Mrs.  Hale's;  that  Mrs.  Hale  smelt  it;  that 
putting  two  and  two — cause  and  effect  and  her  own 
suspicions — together,  she  armed  herself  with  her  bun- 
tormentor  fork  and  going  from  her  back  yard  to  the 
little  outdoor  kitchen  in  Joe's  back  j^ard  found  a  pot 
over  a  fire  and  her  presumed  duck  parboihng  m  it;  and 
that,  transfixing  this  duck  on  her  tormentor,  she  bore 
it  home,  and  the  priest  g-ot  no  duck  for  dinner. 


162 

Carroll's  mortal  aversion  was  the  hog-.  His  favorite 
occupation  for  ten  days  in  the  earl^^  spring-  was  gar- 
dening, and  his  front  fence  was  illy  secured  against 
hogs,  for  Carroll,  though  a  man  of  much  speculative 
enterx^rise,  was  not  one  whose  hands  always  seconded 
the  work  of  liis  head.  There  was  not  a  completed 
thing  on  his  premises,  including  a  well  which  he  had 
dug  to  the  depth  of  twelve  feet  and  which  he  had  then 
abandoned  forever.  The  hogs  would  break  through 
his  fence  and  root  up  his  roses,  and  the  well  caving  in 
about  the  edges  became  a  yawning  gulf  in  his  garden, 
and  during  the  rainy  season  it  partly  filled  up  with 
water,  and  a  hog  fell  in  one  night  and,  to  Carroll's  joy, 
was  drowned. 

Men  did  their  best  in  the  dead  of  a  rainy  night  to 
g-et  the  poor  animal  out,  but  a  hog  is  not  a  being  pos- 
sessed of  any  capacity  for  seconding*  or  furthering- 
human  attempts  at  his  own  rescue.  So  he  drowned, 
and  was  found  the  morning  after  a  grand  New  Yeai-'s 
ball  at  the  Bella  Union  Hall  hanging  by  Joyce's  clothes- 
line over  the  middle  of  the  street  beween  the  Bella 
Union  and  the  Magnolia.  The  next  night  they  put 
him  secretly  in  the  cart  of  a  fish-peddler  who  had  come 
up  with  salmon  from  the  lower  San  Joaquin,  and  tliis 
man  unwittingly  hauled  the  hog-  out  of  toAvn. 

About  four  weeks  after  this  transaction,  coming- 
home  one  dark,  rainy  night,  I  heard  a  great  splashing* 
in  the  well,  and  called  out  to  Carroll  that  he  had  prob- 
ably caught  another  hog.  He  came  out  with  a  lan- 
tern and  both  of  us  peering*  over  the  brink  of  the  cav- 
ity saw,  not  as  we  expected,  a  hog,  but  a  man,  a  friend 
of  Carroll's,  up  to  his  chest  in  the  water.  He  was  a 
miner  from  Campo  Seco,  who,  on  visiting  Jimtown  on 


1G3 

one  of  his  three  months  periodical  sprees,  had  called 
on  Carroll,  and  on  leaving-  had  mistaken  the  route  to 
the  gate  ajid  walked  into  the  well.  We  fished  him  out 
with  much  difficulty,  and  on  gaining"  the  brink  he  camc^ 
near  precipitating"  us  and  himself  into  the  unfinished 
chasm  throug"h  the  unsteadiness  of  his  perpendicular. 
As  we  turned  to  leave,  looking"  down  the  well  b}^  the 
lantern's  flash  I  saw  what  appeared  to  be  another  man 
half  floating  on  the  surface.  There  was  a  coat  and  at 
the  end  of  it  a  hat,  and  I  remarked, ''  Carroll,  there  is 
another  man  down  your  well."  The  rescued  miner 
looked  down  also,  and  chattered  as  he  shivered  with 
cold,  "  Why,  s-s-so  there  is !  "  We  were  really  horri- 
fied until  we  discovered  the  supposed  corpse  to  be  only 
Lewell^'n's  coat  with  his  hat  floating  at  the  end  of 
it,  which  he  had  taken  off  in  his  endeavor  to  clamber 
out. 

Carroll,  unfortunately,  allowed  his  mind  to  wander 
and  stray  overmuch  in  the  maze  of  theological  mys- 
teries and  its  (to  him)  apparent  contradictions.  He 
instituted  a  private  and  personal  quarrel  between 
himself  and  his  Creator,  and  for  3'ears  he  obtruded  his 
quarrel  into  all  manner  of  places  and  assemblages. 
He  arrived  at  last  at  that  point  where  many  do  under 
similar  circumstances — a  belief  in  total  annihilation 
after  death,  and  this  serving  to  make  him  more  mis- 
erable than  ever,  his  only  relief  was  to  convert  others 
to  the  same  opinion  and  make  them  as  wretched  as 
himself.  Occasionally  he  succeeded.  He  came  to  me 
one  day  and  on  his  face  was  the  grin  of  a  fiend.  "  Fve 
got  Cummings,"  said  he.  "  Cummings  thought  this 
morning  he  was  a  good  Methodist,  but  Vyq  been  labor- 
ing with  him  for  weeks.     I've  convinced  him  of  the 


164 

falsity  of  it  all.  I  knocked  his  last  plank  of  faith  frmn 
under  him  to-day.  He  hasn't  now  a  straw  to  cling:  to, 
and  he's  as  miserable  as  I  am." 

"But  Avith  Mullins/'  he  remarked  afterward,  "I've 
slipped  up  on  him.  I  wroug'ht  thi-ee  weeks  witli  Mullins ; 
took  him  throug-h  the  Bible,  step  by  step — unconverted 
him  steadily'  as  we  went  along- — g'ot  liim  down  to  the 
last  leaf  in  the  last  chapter  of  the  last  book  of  Revela- 
tions, and  there,  fool  like,  I  let  up  on  him  to  go  home 
to  supper.  And  do  you  know  when  I  tackled  him  next 
morning-,  to  close  out  Mullins'  faith  in  the  relig-ion 
of  his  fathers,  I  found  Mullins,  in  my  absence,  had  g-ot 
scared.  He'd  g-alloped  in  belief  way  back  to  Genesis, 
and  now,  I've  g-ot  all  that  job  to  do  over  ag-ain." 

There  was  a  g-reat  deal  of  life  in  those  little  mining- 
camps  in  Tuolumne  County  like  Jamestown.  They 
mig-ht  not  have  the  population  of  a  sing'le  block  in 
New  York  City,  but  there  was  a  far  g-reater  averag-e 
of  mental  activity,  quickness,  and  intellig*ence  to  the 
man,  at  least  so  far  as  getting-  the  spice  out  of  li«fe 
was  concerned. 

The  social  life  of  a  g-reat  city  may  be  much  more 
monotonous  through  that  solitude  imposed  by  g-reat 
numbers  living-  tog-ether.  Everybody  at  these  camps 
knew  us,  and  we  knew  ever3^body,  and  were  pretty 
sure  of  meeting-  everybod^^  we  knew.  In  the  town  one 
Is  not  sure  of  meeting-  an  acquaintance  socially,  save 
^y  appointment.  There  are  f(nv  loafing-  or  loung-ing 
resoi^ts;  people  nu'et  in  a  hurry  and  part  in  a  hurry. 
Here  in  New  York  I  cross  night  and  morning  on  a 
ferry  with  five  hundred  p(»ople,  and  of  these  495  do 
not  speak  or  know  each  other. 

Four  hundred  of  these  people  will  sit  and  stare  at 


165 

each  other  for  half  an  hour,  and  all  the  time  wish  they 
could  talk  witli  some  one.  And  many  of  these  people 
are  so  meeting",  so  crossing',  so  staring-,  and  so  longing* 
to  talk  year  in  and  year  out.  There  is  no  doctor's  shop 
where  the  impromptu  symposium  meets  dail}^  in  the 
hack  room,  as  ours  did  at  Doc  Lampson's  hi  Monte- 
zuma, or  Baker's  in  Jamestown,  or  Dr.  Walker's  hi 
Sonora.  There's  no  reception  every  evenin.g  at  tiie 
Camp  g-rocery  as  there  used  to  he  at  "Bill  Brown's" 
in  Montezuma.  Tliere's  no  law^-er's  othce,  where  he 
f(;els  privileged  to  drop  in  as  we  did  at  Jiulg-e  Preston's 
in  Jamestown,  or  Judg-e  Quint's  in  Sonora.  There's 
lu)  printing:  ofhce  and  editorial  room  all  in  one  on  the 
g-rou.nd  floor  whereinto  the  "  Camp  Senate,"  lawyer, 
Judg-e,  doctor,  merchant  and  other  citizens  may  daily 
repair  in  the  summer's  twilight,  tilted  hack  in  the  old 
hacked  arm  chairs  on  the  front  portico,  and  discuss 
the  situation  as  we  used  to  witli  A.  N.  Francisco  of  the 
Union  Deinocrat  in  Sonora,  and  as  I  presume  the 
relics  of  antupiit^^  and  "  '41) "  do  at  that  same  office  to- 
day. These  are  a  few  of  the  features  which  made 
"  Camp  "  attractive.  These  furnished  the  social  anti- 
cipations which  lig-htened  our  footsteps  over  those  miles 
of  mountain,  gulch,  and  flat.  Miles  are  nothing-,  dis- 
tance is  nothing",  houses  a  mile  apart  and  "Camps" 
five  miles  apart  are  nothing- when  people  you  know  and 
like  live  in  those  camps  and  houses  at  the  end  of  those 
miles.  An  evening-  at  fehe  Bella  Union  saloon  in  "Jim- 
town  "was  a  circus.  Because  men  of  mdividuality, 
character,  and  orig-inality  met  there.  They  had  some- 
thing- to  say.  Man}^  of  them  had  little  to  do,  and, 
perhaps,  for  that  very  reason  their  minds  the  quicker 
took  note  of  so  many  of  those  little  peculiarities  of 


106 

human  nature,  which  whou  toKl,  or  liinted,  or  su^- 
ij;"ested  prove  t\\o  sauce  piquant  to  convei'sation. 

When  Brown,  the  hiwA'er,  was  stu(]yiiii;'  French  and 
read  his  Teleuiaque  aloud  by  his  open  office  window 
in  such  a  stentorian  voice  as  to  he  heard  over  a  third 
of  the  "  camp,"  and  with  never  a  Frenchman  at  hand 
to  correct  his  pronunciation,  which  he  manufactured 
to  suit  himself  as  he  went  along-,  it  was  a  part  of  the 
Bella  Union  circus  to  hear  "  Yank  "  imitate  him.  When 
old  Broche,  the  lon.^-,  thin,  bald-headed  French  baker, 
who  never  would  learn  one  word  of  En.ylish,  put  on 
liis  swallow-tailed  Sunday  coat,  which  he  had  broug-ht 
over  from  La  Belle  France,  and  lifted  up  those  coat 
tails  when  he  tripped  over  the  mud-puddles  as  a  lady 
would  her  skirts,  it  was  a  part  of  the  Bella  Union  cir- 
cus to  see  "  Scotty  "  mimic  him.     When  John  S , 

the  Yirg-inian,  impressively  and  loudU^  swore  that  a 
Jack-rabbit  he  had  killed  that  da}'  leaped  twenty-five 
feet  in  the  air  on  beini^  shot,  and  would  then  look 
around  the  room  as  if  he  longed  to  find  somebody  who 
dared  dispute  his  assertion,  while  his  elder  brother, 
alwaj^s  at  his  elbow  in  supporting  distance,  also  glared 
into  the  eyes  of  the  company,  as  though  he  also  long-ed 
to  fight  the  somebody  who  should  dare  discredit 
"  Brother  John's  "  "  whopper,"  it  w^as  a  part  of  the  cir- 
cus to  see  the  "  boys "  wink  at  each  other  when  tliey 
had  a  chance.  When  one  heard  and  saw  so  man^^  of 
every  other  man's  peculiarities,  oddities,  and  Jiianner- 
isms,  save  his  own,  s(^t  off  and  illusti-ated  while  the 
man  was  absent,  and  knew  also  that  his  own,  under 
like  circumstances,  had  been  or  would  be  brought  out 
on  exhibition,  it  made  him  feel  that  it  was  somewhat 
dangerous  to  feel  safe  on  the  slim  and  slippery  ice  of 


167 

self-satisfaction  and  self-conceit.  People  in  ^^Toat  cities 
haven't  so  much  time  to  make  their  own  fun  and 
amusement,  as  did  the  residents  of  so  nu\ny  of  those 
lazy,  loun.i^-iui;-,  tumblin.^-doNvn,  ramshackle  "'camps" 
of  the  era  of  "  18G3 ''  or  thereabouts. 

People  in  the  city  have  more  of  their  fun  manufac- 
tured for  them  at  the  theatres  of  hig-h  and  low  deg'ree. 
Yet  it  was  wonderful  how  in  "camp"  the}^  manag^ed 
to  dig-  so  many  choice  bits  and  specimens  out  of  the 
vein  of  varied  human  natun^  which  lay  so  near  them. 
Whenever  I  visited  "  Jimtown  "  my  old  friend  Dixon 
would  take  me  into  his  private  corner  to  tell  me  "  the 
last"  concerning-  a  character  who  was  working*  hard 
on  an  unal)ridged  copj^  of  Webster's  Dictionary  in  the 
endeavor  to  make  amends  for  a  woeful  lack  of  gram- 
matical knowledgre,  the  result  of  a  neglected  education. 
"  He's  running-  now  on  two  words,"  Dixon  would  say, 
"and  these  are  *  perseverance'  and  'assiduity.'  We 
hear  them  forty  times  a  day,  for  he  lugrs  them  in  at 
eveiy  possible  opportunity,  and,  indexed,  at  times  when 
there  is  no  opportunity.  He  came  to  business  the 
other  morning-  a  little  unwell,  and  alluded  to  his  stom- 
ach as  being- '  in  a  chaotic  state.'  And,  sir,  he  can 
spell  the  word  '  particularly '  with  six  i's.  How  he  does 
it  I  can't  tell;  but  he  can." 


1G8 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE   ROMANCE   OF   AH   SAM   AND   HI   SING. 

The  ciilminal  iii.^-  (n'cnts  of  \hv  followin,!;-  tale  occnrrod 
in  "  Jinilowii  "  duriiii;-  my  podai^-oi^ical  cnroi^r,  and  I 
was  an  indefatig'able  assistant  in  tlie  d<'tails  as  below 
stated. 

Ah  Sam  loved  Miss  Hi  Sin*;-.  Ah  Saiu  was  by  [)rofes- 
sion  a  cook  in  a  California  miners'  boardini^-  house  and 
ti'adin.i;'  post  combined,  at  a  little  mining-  camp  on  the 
Tuolumne  River.  Following  minutely  the  culinary 
teachings  of  his  eniployei",  having  no  conception  of 
cooking,  save  as  a  nu  re  mechanical  operation — dead 
to  the  pernicious  mental  and  physical  ellect  which  his 
ill-dressed  dishes  might  liave  on  the  minds  and  stom- 
achs of  those  he  served — Ah  Sam,  while  dreaming  of 
Hi  Sing,  fried  tough  beef  still  tougher  in  hot  lard, 
poisoned  flour  with  saleratus,  and  boiled  potatoes  to 
the  last  extreme  of  soddenness,  all  of  v/hich  culinary 
outrages  promoted  indigestion  anu)ng'  tliose  who  ate; 
and  this  indigestion  fomented  a  general  irritability  of 
temper — from  whence  Svvett's  Camp  became  noted  for 
its  frequent  sanguinar}^  moods,  its  battles  by  mid- 
night in  street  and  bar-room,  with  knife  and  six- 
shooter,  and,  above  all,  for  its  burying  ground,  of 
which  the  inhabitants  truthfully  boasted  that  not  an 
inmate  had  died  a  natural  death. 

Hi  Sing  was  the  handmaid  of  old  Ching  Loo.     Her 


109 

face  was  broad,  her  nose  flat,  her  g-irth  extensive,  her 
gait  a  waddle,  her  attire  a  bkie  sacque  reaching  from 
neck  to  knee,  bkie  trousers,  brass  rings  on  wrist  and 
ankle,  and  wooden  shoes,  whose  clattering  heels  be- 
trayed their  owner's  presence,  even  as  the  shaken  tail 
of  the  angry  rattlesnake  doth  his  unpleasant  i^roxim- 
ity.  She  had  no  education,  no  manners,  no  accom- 
plishments, no  beauty,  no  grace,  no  religion,  no  moral- 
ity; and  for  this  and  more  Ah  Sam  loved  her.  Hi 
Sing"  was  virtually  a  slave,  having  several  years  previ- 
ously, with  many  other  fair  and  fragile  sisters,  been 
imported  to  California  by  Ching  Loo;  and  not  until 
meeting  Ah  Sam  did  she  learn  that  it  was  her  right 
and  privilege  in  this  land  of  occasional  laws  and  uni 
versal  liberty  to  set  up  for  herself,  become  her  own 
mistress  and  marry  and  luimarry  whenever  oppor- 
tunity offered. 

But  Ching  Loo  had  noticed,  with  a  suspicious  eye, 
the  growing  intinuicy  between  Ah  Sam  and  Hi  Sing; 
and  arguing  therefrom  results  unprofitable  to  himself, 
he  contrived  one  night  to  ha^•e  the  damsel  packed  olf 
to  another  town,  which  liappened  at  that  time  to  be 
my  place  of  residence;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that 
the  woof  of  my  existence  temporarily  crossed  that  of 
Ah  Sam  and  Hi  Sing. 

Ah  Sam  following  up  his  love,  and  discovering  in  me 
an  old  friend,  who  had  endured  and  survived  a  whole 
winter  of  his  cooker}^  at  Swett's  Bar,  told  me  his 
troubles;  and  I,  resolving  to  repa^^  evil  with  good, 
comnumicated  the  distressed  Mongolian's  story  to  my 
chosen  and  particular  companion,  a  lean  and  cadaver- 
ous attorney,  with  whom  fees  had  ceased  to  be  angels' 
visits,  and  who  was  then  oscillating  and  hovering  be- 


170 

twecn  two  plans — one  to  run  for  the  next  State  Le.cfis- 
laturc;  the  otlier  to  migrate  to  Central  America,  and 
found  a  new  republic.  Attorney,  Spoke  on  hearing- 
Ah  Sam's  case,  offered  to  find  tlie  nuiid,  rescue  her 
from  her  captors,  and  marry  her  to  him  permanently 
and  forever  in  consideration  of  thirty  America u  dollars; 
to  which  terms  the  Mongolian  assenting,  Spoke  and 
myself,  buckling  on  our  arms  and  armor,  proceeded  to 
beat  up  the  filthy  purlieus  of  "  Chinatown;  "  and  about 
midnight  we  found  the  passive  Hi  Sing  hidden  away 
in  a  hen-coop,  whither  she  had  been  conveyed  by  the 
confederates  of  Ching  Loo. 

We  bore  Hi  Sing — who  was  considerably  alarmed, 
neither  understanding  our  language  nor  our  purpose 
— to  Spoke's  office,  and  then  it  being  necessary  to  se- 
cui-e  the  services  of  a  magistrate  in  uniting  the  couple, 
I  departed  to  seek  the  Justice  of  the  Peace,  who  was 
still  awake — for  Justice  rarely  slept  in  camp  at  that 
hour,  but  was  cominonl^^  engaged  at  the  Bella  Union 
playing  poker,  whdst  Spoke  sought  after  the  groom. 
Ah  Sam,  whom  he  found  in  a  Chinese  den  stupid  1  \' 
drunk  from  smoking  o[)ium,  having  taken  such  means 
to  wear  the  vd^^-c  ofi'  his  suspense  wliile  we  were  rescu- 
ing his  afiRanced.  Not  onh^  was  he  stupidly-  but  per- 
versely^ drunk ;  but  he  declared  in  hnperfect  English 
that  he  had  concluded  not  to  marry  that  night,  to 
which  observation  Attorney  Spoke,  becoming  profane, 
jerked  him  from  the  cot  whereon  he  lay,  and  grasping 
him  about  the  neck  with  a  strangulating  hold,  bore 
him  into  the  street  and  toward  his  office,  intimating 
loudly  that  tliis  business  had  been  proceeded  with  too 
far  to  be  receded  from,  and  that  the  marriage  nuist 
be  consummated  that  night  witli  or  without  the  con- 


171 

sent  of  the  principals.  Ah  Sam  resig-ned  himself  to 
matrimony.  The  ofhce  was  reached,  the  door  opened 
and  out  in  the  darkness  bolted  the  bride,  for  she  knew 
not  what  these  preparations  meant,  or  whether  she 
had  fallen  among-  friends  or  enemies.  After  a  lively 
chase  we  cornered  and  cang-ht  her;  and  havin,g  thus 
at  last  brought  this  refractory  couple  tog-ether  we 
placed  them  in  position,  and  the  Justice  commenced 
the  ceremony  by  asking-  Hi  Sing-  if  she  took  that  man 
for  her  lawful  wedded  husband,  which  interrogator3^ 
being-  Chaldaic  to  her,  she  replied  onl}^  by  an  unmean- 
ing- and  unspeculative  stare.  Spoke,  who  seemed  des- 
tined to  be  the  soul  and  mainspring-  of  this  whole  afTair, 
now  threw  light  on  the  Mong-olian  mtellect  by  bring-- 
ing  into  play  his  stock  of  Chinese  English,  and  trans- 
lating to  her  the  lang-uai^e  of  the  Justice  thus :  "  You 
like  'um  he,  pretty  g-ood  ? "  Upon  which  her  face 
brigrhtened,  and  she  nodded  assent.  Then  turning-  to 
the  g-room,  he  called  in  a  tone  fierce  and  threatening-, 
"  You  like  'um  she  ?  "  and  Ah  Sam — who  was  now  only 
a  passive  object  in  the  hands  of  Spoke,  forced  and  g-al- 
vanized  into  matrimony" — dared  not  do  otherwise  than 
g-ive  in  his  adhesion,  upon  which  the  Justice  pro- 
nounced them  man  and  wife;  whereupon  two  Vir- 
g-inians  present  with  their  violins  (all  Virg-inians  fiddle 
and  shoot  well)  struck  up  the  "Arkansas  Traveller;" 
and  the  audience — which  was  now  large,  every  bar- 
room in  Jamestown  having-  emptied  itself  to  witness 
our  Chinese  wedding- — inspired  by  one  common  im- 
pulse, arose  and  marched  seven  times  about  tlie  couple. 
All  Sam  was  now  informed  tliat  he  was  married 
"American  fashion,"  and  that  he  was  free  to  depart 
Avith  his  wedded  encumbrance.     But  Ah  Sam,  whose 


172 

intoxicatioR  had  broken  out  in  full  acquiescence  with 
these  proceeding's,  now  insisted  on  making*  a  midnight 
tour  of  all  the  saloons  in  camp,  and  treating  every- 
body to  the  deathly  whiskey  vended  by  them,  to  which 
the  crowd — who  never  objected  to  the  driving  of  this 
sort  of  nails  in  tlieir  own  cofRns — assented,  and  the 
result  of  it  was  (Ah  Sam  spending*  his  money  very 
fi-eely)  that  when  daylight  peeped  over  the  eastern 
hills  the  Bella  Union  saloon  was  stilLin  full  blast;  and 
Avhile  the  Justice  of  the  Peace  was  winning  Spoke's 
thirt^^  hard-earned  dollars  in  one  corner,  and  the  two 
Virginians  still  kept  the  "Ai'kansns  Traveller  "  going 
on  their  violins  in  another',  Stephen  Scott  (afterward 
elected  to  Congress)  was  weeping*  profusely  over  the 
bar,  and  on  l)eing  interrogated  as  to  the  cause  of  his 
sadness  by  General  Wyatt,  ex-member  of  the  State 
Senate,  Scott  replied  that  he  could  never  hear  pla^x'd  the 
air  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  without  shedding-  tears. 

Ah  Sam  departed  with  his  bride  in  the  morning,  and 
never  were  a  man's  prospects  brighter  for  a  happy 
honeymoon  until  the  succeeding  night,  when  he  was 
waylaid  b}^  a  band  of  disguised  Avhite  men  in  the  tem- 
porary service  and  pay  of  old  Ching  Loo ;  and  he  and 
Hi  Sing  were  forced  so  far  apart  that  the^^  never  saw 
each  other  again. 

Ah  Sam  returned  to  the  attoj^ney,  apparentl^^  deem- 
ing that  some  help  might  be  obtained  in  that  quarter; 
but  Spoke  intimated  that  he  could  no  longer  assist 
him,  since  it  Avas  every  man's  special  and  pjirticular 
mission  to  keep  his  own  wife  after  being'  married;  al- 
though he  added,  for  Ah  Sam's  comfort,  that  this  was 
not  such  an  easy  matter  for  the  Americans  themselves, 
especially  in  California. 


173 

Upon  this  Ah  Sam  apparently  determined  to  be  sat- 
isfied with  his  brief  and  turbulent  career  in  matri- 
mony; and  betaking-  himself  again  to  Svvett's  Bar 
cooked  in  such  a  villainous  fashion  and  desperate  vigor, 
finding-  thereby  a  balm  for  an  aching-  heart,  that  in  a 
twelvemonth  several  stalwart  miners  gave  up  theii- 
g-hosts  through  indigestion,  and  the  little  graveyard 
on  the  red  hill  thereby  lost  forever  its  distinctive 
character  of  atTording  a  final  resting  place  only  to 
those  who  had  died  violent  deaths. 


174 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ON  A   JURY. 

Year  after  year,  and  term  after  term,  the  great 
case  of  Table  Mountain  Tunnel  vs.  New  York  Tunnel, 
used  to  be  called  in  the  Court  held  at  Sonora,  Tuo- 
lumne County.  The  opposing-  claims  were  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  g-reat  mountain  wall,  which  here  described 
a  semicircle.  When  these  two  claims  were  taken  up, 
it  was  supposed  the  pay  streak  followed  the  Moun- 
tain's course;  but  it  had  here  taken  a  freak  to  shoot 
straig-ht  across  a  flat  formed  by  the  curve.  Into  this 
g-round,  at  first  deemed  worthless,  both  parties  were 
tunnelling-.  The  farther  they  tunnelled,  the  richer 
g-rew  the  x^a^^  streak.  Every  foot  was  worth  a  fortune. 
Both  claimed  it.  The  law  Avas  called  upon  to  settle 
the  difficulty.  The  law  was  g-lad,  for  it  had  then 
many  children  in  the  county  who  needed  fees.  Our 
lawyers  ran  their  tunnels  into  both  of  these  rich 
claims,  nor  did  they  stop  boring-  until  they  had  ex- 
hausted the  cream  of  that  pay  streak.  Year  after 
year.  Table  Mountain  vs.  New  York  Tunnel  Company 
was  tried,  judg-ment  rendered  first  for  one  side  and 
then  for  the  other,  then  appealed  to  the  Supreme 
Court,  sent  back,  and  tried  over,  until,  at  last,  it  had 
become  so  encumbered  with  leg-al  barnacles,  parasites, 
and  cobwebs,  that  none  other  than  the  lawyers  knew 
or  pretended  to  know  aught  of  the  rig-hts  of  the  mat- 


175 

ter.     Meantime,  the  two  rival  companies  kept  hard  at 
work,  da^'  and  night.    Every  ounce  over  the  necessar}^ 
expense  of  working-  their  claims  and  feeding  and  cloth- 
ing- their  bodies,  went  to  maintain  lawyers.     The  case 
became  one  of  the  institutions  of  the  county.     It  out- 
lived several  judges  and  attorneys.     It  grew  plethofic 
with  affidavits  and  other  documentary^  evidence.    Men 
died,  and  with  their  last  breath  left  some  word  still 
further  to  confuse  the  great  Table  Mountain  vs.  New 
York  Tunnel  case.     The  count}^  town  throve  during 
this  yearh'  trial.     Each  side  brought  a  small  army  of 
witnesses,  who  could  swear  and  lill  up  any  and  every 
gap  in  their  respective  chains  of  evidence.     It  involved 
tlie  history,  also,  of  all  the  mining  laws  made  since 
''  '49."     Eventuall^^  jurors  competent  to  tr^^  this  case 
became  very  scarce.    Nearly  every  one  had  "  sat  on  it," 
or  had  read  or  heard  or  formed  an  opinion  concerning 
it,  or  said  they  had.     The  Sheriff  and   his   deputies 
ransacked  the  hills  and  gulches  of  Tuolumne  for  new 
Table   Mountain   vs.  New   York  Tunnel   jurors.      At 
last,  buried  in  an  out-of-the-wa}'  gulch,  tliey  found  me. 
I  was  presented  witli  a  paper  commanding  my  appear- 
ance at  the  county  town,  with  various  pains  and  pen- 
alties  affixed,  in   case   of  refusal.     I  obeyed.     I   had 
never  before  formed  the  twelfth  of  a  jury.    In  my  own 
estimation,  I  rated  only  as  the  twenty -fourth.     We 
were  sworn  in;   sworn  to  try  tlie  case  to  the  best  of 
our  ability;   it  was  I'idiculous  that  I  should  swear  to 
this,  for  internally  I  owned  I  had  no  ability  at  all  as 
a  juror.     We  were   put   in   twelve   arm-chairs.     The 
great  case  was  called.     The   lawyers,   as   usual,   on 
either  side,  opened   hy  declaring   their  intentions  to 
prove  themselves  all  right  and   their   opponents   all 


176 

wrong-.  I  did  not  know  wliich  was  the  plaintiff,  wliich 
the  defendant.  Twenty-four  witnesses  on  one  side 
swoi-e  to  something-,  to  an ytliiiii::,  to  everything";  thirty- 
six  on  the  other  swore  it  all  down  again.  They  thus 
swore  ag-ainst  each  other  for  two  days  and  a  half. 
The  Court  was  noted  for  being-  an  eternal  sitter.  He 
sat  fourteen  hours  per  day.  The  trial  histed  five  days. 
Opposing-  counsel,  rival  claimants,  even  witnesses,  all 
had  maps,  long-,  brilliant,  parti-colored  maps  of  their 
claims,  which  they  unrolled  and  held  before  us  and 
swung-  defiantly  at  each  other.  The  sixty  witnesses 
testified  froui  1849  up  to  18G4.  After  days  of  such 
testimon}^  as  to  ancient  boundary  lines  and  ancient 
mining-  laws,  the  lawyers  on  either  side,  still  more  to 
mystify  the  case,  caucused  the  matter  over  and  con- 
cluded to  throw  out  about  half  of  such  testimon^^  as 
being-  irrelevant.  But  they  could  not  throw  it  out  of 
our  memories.  The  "  summing-  up  "  lasted  two  days 
more.  By  this  time,  I  was  a  mere  idiot  in  the  matter- 
I  had,  at  the  start,  endeavored  to  keep  some  track  of 
the  evidence,  but  they  manag-ed  to  snatch  every  clue 
away  as  fast  as  one  got  hold  of  it.  We  were  "  charged  " 
by  the  judg-e  and  sent  to  the  jury  room.  I  felt  like 
both  a  fool  and  a  criminal.  I  knew  I  had  not  the 
sliadow  of  an  opinion  or  a  conclusion  in  the  matter. 
However,  I  found  myself  not  alone.  We  were  out  all 
night.  There  was  a  storm^^  time  between  the  three 
or  four  jurymen  who  knew  or  pretended  to  know  some- 
thing* of  tjie  matter.  The  rest  of  us  watched  the  con- 
troversy, and,  of  tourse,  sided  with  the  majority.  And, 
at  last,  a  verdict  was  ag-reed  upon.  It  has  made  so 
little  impression  on  my  mind  that  I  forg-et  now  wiiom 
it  favored.     It  did  not  matter.     Both  claims  were  then 


177 

paying-  well,  and  this  was  a  sure  indication  that  the 
case  would  g-o  to  the  Supreme  Court.  It  did.  This 
was  in  ISGO.  I  think  it  made  these  yearly  trips  up  to 
1867.  Then  some  of  the  more  obstinate  and  combative 
members  of  either  claim  died,  and  the  remainder  con- 
cluded to  keep  some  of  the  g'old  they  were  dig-g-ing-  in- 
stead of  paying-  it  out  to  fee  law^^ers.  The  Table 
Mountain  vs.  New  York  Tunnel  case  stopped.  All  the 
lawyers,  save  two  or  three,  emigrated  to  San  Fran- 
cisco or  went  to  Cong-ress.  I  g-ained  but  one  thing: 
from  my  experience  in  the  matter — an  opinion.  It 
ma^^  or  may  not  be  rig'ht.  It  is  that  juries  in  most 
cases  are  humbug-s. 


1  i~Q 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

SOME  CULINARY  REMINISCENCES. 

I  LIVED  once  with  an  unbalanced  cook.  Ciilinarily 
he  was  not  self-poised.  He  lacked  judgment.  He  was 
always  taking-  too  large  cooking  contracts.  He  was 
lor  a  time  my  partner.  He  was  a  lover  of  good  living 
and  willing  to  work  hard  for  it  over  a  cook  stove.  He 
would  for  a  single  Sunday's  dinner  plan  more  dishes 
than  his  mind  could  eventually  grasp  or  his  hands 
liandle.  And  when  he  had  exhausted  the  whole  of  the 
hmited  gastronomical  repertoire  within  our  reach  he 
would  be  sucklenly  inspired  with  a  troublesome  pro- 
pensity to  add  hash  to  the  programme.  In  cooking, 
as  I  have  said,  he  lost  his  balance.  His  ijuagination 
pictured  more  possibilities  than  his  bod^'  had  sti-ength 
to  carry  out.  So  busied  in  getting  up  a  varied  meal, 
he  would  in  a  few  minutes'  leisure  attempt  to  shave 
himself  or  sew  on  shirt  or  pantaloon  buttons.  This 
put  too  many  irons  in  the  fire.  A  man  who  attempts 
to  shave  Avhile  a  pot  is  boiling  over  or  a  roast  i-equir- 
ing  careful  watching  is  in  the  oven,  will  neither  shave 
nor  cook  well.  He  will  be  apt  to  leave  lather  whei'e  it 
is  not  desirable,  as  he  sometimes  did.  Trousers-buttons 
are  not  good  in  soup.  I  do  not  like  to  see  a  wet  shav- 
ing brush  near  a  roast  read}-  to  go  into  the  oven.  The 
a^sthetic  taste  repudiates  these  hints  at  combination. 
Then  sometimes,  in  the  very  crisis  of  a  meal,  he  be- 


179 

came  flurried.  He  rushed  about  in  haste  overmuch, 
with  a  big-  spoon  in  one  hand  and  a  giant  fork  in 
the  other,  looking  for  missing  stove-covers  and  pot- 
hds,  seldom  found  until  the  next  day,  and  then  in 
strange  places.  Nothing  is  well  done  which  is  done  in 
a  hurry,  especially  cooking-.  Some  argue  that  men  and 
women  put  their  magnetic  and  sympathetic  influences 
in  the  food  they  prepare.  If  a  man  kneading  bread  be 
in  a  bad  temper  he  puts  bad  temper  in  the  bread,  and 
that  bad  temper  goes  into  the  person  who  eats  it.  Or 
if  he  be  dyspeptic  he  kneads  dyspepsia  in  his  dough. 
It  is  awful  to  think  what  we  may  be  eating.  I  think 
tlie  unbalanced  cook  puts  flurries  in  Jiis  stews,  for  I 
felt  sometimes  as  if  trying  to  digest  a  whirlwind  after 
eating  this  man's  dinners.  He  ruled  the  house.  I  was 
his  assistant.  I  was  his  victim.  I  was  the  slave  of 
the  spit,  and  the  peon  of  the  frying-pan.  When  his 
energies  culminated  and  settled  on  hash,  when  already 
the  stove-top  was  full  of  dishes  in  preparation,  I  was  se- 
lected as  the  proper  person  to  chop  the  necessary  in- 
gredients. We  had  neither  chopping-knife  nor  tray. 
The  mining"  stores  then  did  not  contain  such  luxuries. 
This  to  him  made  no  difference.  He  was  a  man  who 
rose  superior  to  obstacles,  circumstances,  and  chopping 
trays.  He  said  that  hash  could  be  chopped  with  a 
hatchet  on  a  flat  board.  He  planned;  I  executed.  He 
theorized  and  invented;  I  put  his  inventions  in  prac- 
tice. But  never  successfully  could  I  chop  a  mass  of 
beef  and  boiled  potatoes  with  a  hatchet  on  a  flat  board. 
The  ingredients  during  the  operation  would  expand  and 
fall  over  the  edge  of  the  board.  Or  the  finer  particles 
would  violently  fly  off  at  each  cut  of  the  hatchet,  and 
lodg-e  on  the  beds  or  other  unseemly  places. 


180 

I  do  not  favor  a  dinner  of  many  courses,  especially 
if  it  falls  to  my  lot  to  prepare  these  courses.  Few 
cooks  enjoy  their  own  dinners.  For  two  reasons: 
First — They  eat  them  in  anticipation.  This  nullifies 
the  flavor  of  the  reality-.  Second — The  labor  of  prei)a- 
ration  fatig'ues  the  body  and  takes  the  keen  ed<^'(;  from 
the  appetite.  You  are  heated,  Hushed,  exhausted,  and 
the  nerves  in  a  twitter.  The  expected  relish  palls  and 
proves  a  myth.  Ladies  who  cook  will  corroborate  my 
testimony  on  this  point.  It  is  a  great,  merciful  and 
useful  vent  for  a  woman  that  a  man  can  come  forward 
able  and  willing-  to  s^^mpathize  with  her  in  regrard  to 
this  and  other  trials  of  domestic  life.  Having-  kept 
my  own  house  for  3'ears  I  know  whei'eof  I  speak.  Two 
liours'  w^ork  about  a  hot  stove  exhausts  more  than 
four  hours'  work  out  of  doors.  Americans  in  Europe 
are  shocked  or  pretend  to  be  at  sig-ht  of  women  doing- 
men's  work  in  the  fields.  They  are  much  better  off 
than  the  American  woman,  five-sixths  of  whose  life  is 
spent  in  the  kitchen.  The  outdoor  woman  shows  some 
blood  throug-h  the  tan  on  her  cheeks.  The  American 
kitchen  housewife  is  sallow  and  bleached  out.  I  have 
in  Vienna  seen  women  mixing-  mortar  and  carrying- 
bricks  to  the  sixth  story  of  an  unfinished  house,  and 
laying-  bricks,  too.  Tliese  w^omen  w^ere  bare-legg-ed  to 
the  knee,  and  their  arms  and  leg-s  were  muscular. 
The^^  mixed  their  mortar  with  an  energy  sug-g-estive 
of  fearful  consequences  to  an  ordinary  man  of  seden- 
tary occupations.  The^^  could  with  ease  have  taken 
such  a  man  and  mixed  him  with  their  mortar.  Coarse, 
were  they  ?  Yes,  of  course  the^^  were.  But  if  I  am  to 
choose  between  a  coarse  woman,  physically  speaking:, 
and  one  hot-housed  and  enervated  to  that  exteii4^  tliat 


181 

she  cannot  walk  half  a  mile  in  the  open  air,  but  re- 
quires to  be  hauled,  I  choose  the  coarse-gTained  fibre. 
I  once  Uved  near  a  literary  cook.     It  was  to  him  by 
a  sort  of  natural  heritage  that  fell  the  keeping  of  the 
Hawkins  Bar  Library,  purchased  b^^  the  "bo^s"'  way 
back  in  the  a.d.  eighteen   hundred   and   fifties.     The 
librar^^  occupied  two  sides  of  a  very  small  cabin,  and 
the  man  who  kept  it  lived  on  or  near  the  other  two 
sides.     There,  during  nights  and  rainy  days,  he  read 
and  ate.     His  table,  a  mere  flap  or  shelf  projecting 
from  the  wall,  was  two-tliirds  covered  with  books  and 
l)apers,  and  the  other  third  with   a   never-cleared-otf 
array  of    table  furniture,  to  wit:  A  tin   i)late,  knife, 
fork,  tin  cup,  yeast-powder  can,  pepper-box,  ditto  full 
of  sugar,  ditto  full  of  salt,  a  butter-plate,  a  bottle  of 
vinegar  and  anotlier  of  molasses,  and  may  be,  on  occa- 
sions, one  of  whiskey.     On  ever^^  book  and  paper  were 
more   or  less   of  the   imprint   of    greasy   fingers,   or 
streaks  of  molasses.     The  plate,  owing'  to  the  almost 
entire  absence  of  the  cleansing  process,  was  even  im- 
bedded ill  a  brownish,  unctuous  deposit,  the  congealed 
oleaginous  overflow  of  months  of  meals.     There  he  de- 
voured beef  and  lard,  bacon  and  beans  and  enc3^clope- 
dias,  Humboldt's  "Cosmos"  and  dried  apples,  novels 
and  physical  nourishment  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
He  went  long  since  where  the  weary  cease  from  trou- 
bling, and  the  wicked,' let  us  hope,  are  at  rest.    Years 
ago,  passing  through  the  deserted  Bar,  I  peeped  in  at 
Morgan's  cabin.     A  young  oak  almost  l)arred  the  door, 
part  of  the  roof  was  gone,  the  books  and  shelves  had 
vanished;   naught  remained  but  the  old  miner's  stove 
and   a   few   batterrd   cooking-  utensils.     I   had   some 
though-t  at  the  Uiue  of  camping  for  the  night  on  the 


182 

Bar,  but  this  desolate  cabin  and  its  associations  of 
forniei'  days  contrasted  witli  tlie  loneliness  and  soli- 
tude of  the  present  proved  too  much  for  nie.  I  feared 
tlie  possible  g-host  of  the  dead  librarian,  and  left  for  a 
populated  camp.  Poor  fellow!  While  living,  dyspep- 
sia and  he  were  in  close  embrace.  A  long  course  of 
combined  reading-  and  eating-  ruined  his  digestion. 
One  thing  at  a  time;  what  a  man  does  he  wants  to  do 
with  all  his  might. 

Eggs  in  the  early  days  were  great  luxuries.  Eggs 
then  filled  the  place  of  oysters.  A  dish  of  ham  and 
eggs  was  one  of  the  brilliant  anticipations  of  the  miner 
resident  in  some  lonesome  gulch  when  footing  it  to  the 
nearest  large  camp.  A  few  enterprising  and  luxurious 
miners  kept  hens  and  raised  chickens.  The  coons, 
coyotes,  and  foxes  were  inclined  to  "  raise "  those 
chickens  too.  There  was  one  character  on  Hawkins 
Bar  whose  coop  was  large  and  well  stocked.  Eggs 
were  regularly  on  his  breakfast-table,  and  he  was  the 
envied  of  many.  Generous  in  disposition,  oft  he  made 
holiday  presents  of  eggs  to  his  friends.  Such  a  gift  was 
(Mpiivalent  to  that  of  a  turkej^  in  older  communities. 
One  foe  to  this  gentleman's  peace  and  the  securit}^ 
of  his  chickens  alone  existed.  That  foe  was  whiskey. 
For  whenever  elevated  and  cheered  by  the  cup  which 
does  inebriate,  he  w^ould  in  the  excess  of  his  royal 
nature  call  his  friends  about  him,  even  after  midnight, 
and  slay  and  eat  his  tenderest  chickens.  Almost  so 
certain  as  Kip  got  on  a  sprt.'c  there  came  a  feast  and 
consequent  midnight  depletion  of  his  chicken-coop — a 
depletion  that  was  mourned  over  in  vainw^hen  soberer 
and  Avisei"  counsels  prevailed.  The  pioneer  beefsteak's 
of  California  were  in  most  cases  cut  from  bulls  which 


183 

had  fought  bull-fights  all  the  way  up  fro4ii  Mexico. 
Firm  in  fibre  as  they  were,  they  were  g-euerally  uuuie 
liriuer  still  by  being'  fried  in  lard.  The  meat  w^as 
brought  to  the  table  in  a  dish  covered  with  the  drip- 
ping- in  which  it  had  hardened.  To  a  certain  extent 
the  ferocity  and  comhativeness  of  human  nature  pecu- 
liar to  the  days  of "''  '49  "  were  owing-  to  obstacles  thrown 
in  the  way  of  easy  dig-estion  by  bull  beef  fried  to 
leather  in  lard.  Bad  bread  and  bull  beef  did  it.  The 
powers  of  the  human  system  were  taxed  to  the  utter- 
most to  assimilate  these  articles.  The  assimilation  of 
the  raw  material  into  bone,  blood,  nerve,  muscle,  sinew 
and  brain  was  necessarily  imperfect.  Bad  whiskey  was 
then  called  upon  for  relief.  This  completed  the  ruin. 
Of  course  men  would  murder  each  other  with  such 
warring-  elements  inside  of  them. 

The  ideas  of  our  pioneer  cooks  and  housekeepers  re- 
g-arding-  quantities,  kinds,  and  qualities  of  provisions 
necessary  to  be  procured  for  longer  or  shorter  periods, 
were  at  first  vag-ue.  There  was  an  Argonaut  who  re- 
sided at  Truetts'  Bar,  and,  in  the  fall  of  1850,  warned 
by  the  dollar  a  pound  for  flour  experience  of  the  past 
winter,  he  resolved  to  la^^  in  a  few  months'  provisions. 
He  was  a  luck^^  miner.  Were  there  now  existing"  on 
that  bar  any  pioneers  who  lived  there  in  '40,  they 
would  tell  you  how  he  kept  a  barrel  of  whiskey  in  his 
tent  on  free  tap.  Such  men  are  scarce  and  win  name 
and  fame.  Said  he  to  the  Bar  trader  wiien  the  No- 
vember clouds  began  to  sig-nal  the  coming-  rains,  "I 
want  to  lay  in  three  months'  provisions.^'  "Well, 
make  out  3'our  order,"  said  the  storekeeper.  This 
( roubled  G— — .  At  leng-th  he  g-ave  it  verbally  thus : 
"I  guess  I'll  have  two  sacks  of  flour,  a  side  of  bacon, 


184 

ten  pounds  of  sugar,  two  pounds  of  coffee,  a  pound  of 
tea,  and — and — a  barrel  of  vvhiske^^" 

My  own  experience  taught  me  some  things  uncon- 
sidered before.  Once,  wiiile  housekeeping,  I  bought 
an  entire  sack  of  rice.  I  had  no  idea  then  of  tlie  ehis- 
tic  and  durable  properties  of  rice.  A  sack  looked 
small.  The  rice  surprised  me  by  its  elasticity-  when 
put  on  to  boil.  Eice  swells  amazingly.  My  first  pot 
swelled  up,  forced  oil  the  lid  and  oozed  over.  Then  I 
shoveled  rice  by  the  big  spoonful  into  eveiything 
empty  which  I  could  find  in  the  cabin.  Still  it  swelled 
and  oozed.  Even  the  washbasin  was  full  of  half-boiled 
rice.  Still  it  kept  on.  I  saw  then  that  I  had  put  in 
too  much — far  too  much.  The  next  time  I  tried  half 
the  quantity.  That  swelled,  boiled  up,  boiU'd  ovei*  and 
also  oozed.  I  never  saw  such  a  remarkal)le  grain. 
The  third  time  I  put  far  h'ss  to  cook.  Even  then  it 
arose  and  filled  the  pot.  The  seeds  looked  minute  and 
harmless  enoug-h  before  being  soaked.  At  last  I  be- 
came disgusted  with  rice.  I  looked  at  the  sack.  There 
Avas  the  merest  excavation  made  in  it  by  the  (juantity 
taken  out.  This  alarmed  me.  With  my  gi-adually 
decreasing  appetite  for  rice,  I  reflected  and  calculated 
that  it  would  take  seven  years  on  that  Bar  ere  I  could 
eat  all  the  rice  in  that  sack.  I  saw  it  in  imagination 
all  boiled  at  once  and  filling  the  entire  cabin.  This 
determined  m^^  resolution.  I  shouldered  the  sack,  car- 
ried it  l)ack'  to  1he  store  and  sr.id  :  "See  liciv!  T  want 
you  to  exchange  this  cereal  for  sometliing  that  won^t 
swell  so  in  th<'  cooking.  I  want  to  exchange  it  for 
something  which  I  can  eat  up  in  a  reasonable  length 
of  time." 

The  storekeeper  was  a  kind  aiid  obliging  man.     He 


185 

took  it  back.  But  the  reputation,  the  sting"  of  buying- 
an  entire  sack  of  rice  remained.  The  "boys"  liad 
"spotted"  the  transaction.  The  merchant  had  told 
tliem  of  it.  I  was  reminded  of  that  sack  of  rice  years 
afterward. 


186 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

THE   COPPER   FEVER. 

In  1862-63  a  copper  fever  rag-ed  in  California.  A  rich 
vein  had  been  found  in  Stanislaus  County.  A  "  cit}'- " 
sprung'  up  around  it  and  was  called  Copperopohs. 
The  city  came  and  went  inside  of  ten  years.  Wlien 
first  I  visited  Copperopolis,  it  contained  3,000  people. 
When  I  last  saw  the  place,  one  hundred  would  cover 
its  entire  population. 

But  tlie  copper  fever  raged  in  the  beginning.  Gold 
was  temporarily  thrown  in  the  shade.  Miners  became 
speedily-  learned  in  surface  copper  indications.  The 
talk  far  and  wide  was  of  copper  "  carbonates,"  oxides, 
"  sulphurets,"  "gosson."  Great  was  the  demand  for 
scientific  works  on  copper.  From  many  a  miner's 
cabin  was  heard  the  clink  of  mortar  and  pestle  pound- 
mg  copper  rock,  preparatory  to  testing  it.  The  pul- 
verized rock  placed  in  a  solution  of  diluted  nitric  acid, 
a  knife  blade  plunged  therein  and  coming  out  coat(xl 
with  a  precipitation  of  copper  was  exhibited  triumph- 
antly as  a  prognosticator  of  commg  fortune  from  the 
newly  found  lead.  The  fever  flew  from  one  remote 
camp  to  another.  A  green  verdigris  stain  on  the  rocks 
would  set  the  neigliborhood  copper  crazy.  On  the 
strength  of  that  one  '*  surface  indication  "  claims  would 
be  staked  out  for  miles,  companies  formed,  shafts  in 
flinty  rock  sunk  and  cities  planned.     Nitric  acid  came 


187 

in  great  demand.  It  was  upset.  It  j^ellowed  our  fin- 
g-ers,  and  burned  holes  in  our  clothes.  But  we  loved  it 
for  what  it  might  prove  to  us.  A  swarm  of  men 
learned  in  copper  soon  came  from  San  Francisco. 
They  told  all  about  it,  where  the  leads  should  com- 
mence, in  what  direction  they  should  run,  how  they 
should  "  dip,''  what  would  be  the  character  of  the  ore, 
and  what  it  would  yield.  We,  common  miners,  bowed 
to  their  superior  knowledge.  We  worshipped  them. 
We  followed  them.  We  watched  their  faces  as  they 
surveyed  the  ground  wherein  had  been  found  a  bit  of 
sulphuret  or  a  green  stained  ledge,  to  get  at  the 
secret  of  their  superior  right  under  ground.  It  took 
many  montlis,  even  years  for  the  knowledge  slowly  to 
fdter  through  our  brains  that  of  these  men  nine-tenths 
had  no  practical  knowledge  of  copper  or  any  other 
mining.  The  normal  calling  of  one  of  the  most  learned 
of  them  all,  I  found  out  afterward  to  be  that  of  a  music 

teacher.    Old  S ,  the  local  geologist  of  Sonora,  who 

liad  that  pecuhar  uuiversal  genius  for  tinkering  at  any- 
tliiug  aud  evei-ythiug  from  a  broken  wheelbarrow  to  a 
ch:)ck  and  whose  shop  was  a  museum  of  stones,  bones 
and  minerals  collected  from  llie  vicinity,  "classified," 
and  named,  some  correctly  and  some  possibly  Other- 
wise, took  immediatel}' on  himself  the  mantle  of  a  cop- 
per prophet,  and  saw  the  whole  land  resting  on  a  basis 
of  rich  copper  ore.  He  advised  in  season  and  out  of  sea- 
son, in  his  shop  and  in  the  street,  that  all  men,  and  es- 
pecially young  men,  betake  themselves  to  copper  min- 
ing. It  was,  he  said,  a  sure  thing.  It  needed  only 
pluck,  patience,  and  perseverance.  "Sink,"  he  said, 
"sink  for  copper.  Sink  shafts  wherever  indications 
are  found.     Sink  deep.     Don't  be  discouraged  if  the 


188 

vein  does  not  appear  at  twenty,  thirty,  sixty  or  an 
liundred  feet." 

And  tliey  did  sink.  For  several  years  they  sunk 
sliafts  all  over  our  county  and  in  many  another 
county.  In  remote  g-ulches  and  canons  they  sunk  and 
blasted  and  lived  on  pork  and  beans  week  in  and  week 
out  and  remained  all  day  underg-round,  till  the  dark- 
ness bleached  their  faces.  They  sunk  and  sunk  and 
saw  seldom  the  faces  of  others  of  their  kind,  and  no 
womankind  at  all.  They  lived  coarsely,  dressed 
coarsely,  and  no  matter  what  they  mig-ht  have  been, 
felt  coarsely  and  m  accordance,  acted  coai'sel^^  They 
sunk  time  and  money  and  years  and  even  health  and 
strength,  and  in  nineteen  cases  out  of  twenty  found 
nothing-  but  barren  rock  or  rock  bearing  just  enough 
mineral  not  to  pay. 

I  took  the  copper  fever  with  the  rest.  In  a  few 
weeks  I  became  an  "  expert  "  in  copper.  I  found  two 
veins  on  my  former  g-old  claim  at  Swett's  Bar.  I  found 
veins  everywhere.  I  reall^^  did  imagine  that  I  knew  a 
g-reat  deal  about  copper-mining,  and  being  an  honest 
enthusiast  was  all  the  more  dangerous.  The  banks  of 
the  Tuolumne  became  at  last  too  limited  as  my  field 
for  copper  exploration  and  discovery.  I  left  for  the 
more  thickly  i^opulated  i:)ortion  of  the  county,  where 
there  being  more  people,  there  was  liable  to  be  more 
cox:)per,  and  where  the  Halsey  Claim  was  located.  The 
"Halsey  "  was  having  its  day  then  as  the  King  claim 
of  the  county.  It  had  really  produced  a  few  sacks 
of  ore,  which  was  more  than  any  other  Tuolumne  cop- 
pi 'r  claim  had  done,  and  on  the  strength  of  this,  its 
value  was  for  a  few  months  pushed  far  up  into  high 
and  airy  realms  of  finance. 


189 

I  told  some  of  my  acquaintances  in  Sonora  that  I 
could  find  the  "continuation"  of  the  Halsey  lead. 
They  "  staked  "  me  with  a  few  dollars,  in  consideration 
of  Avhich  I  was  to  make  them  shareholders  in  what- 
ever I  mig-ht  find.  Then  I  went  forth  into  the  chap- 
para  I  to  "prospect."  The  Halsey  claim  laj^  about  a 
mile  east  of  Table  Mountain  near  Montezuma,  a  min- 
mg-  camp  then  far  in  its  decline.  Table  Mountain  is 
one  of  the  g-eolo.crical  curiosities,  if  not  wonders  of 
Tuolumne  and  California.  As  a  well-defmed  wall  it  is 
forty  miles  lon^.  Throug-h  Tuolumne  it  is  a  veritable 
wall,  from  250  to  600  feet  in  heig'ht,  flat  as  a  floor  on 
the  top.  That  top  has  an  averag-e  Avidth  of  300  yards. 
The  "table"  is  composed  of  what  we  miners  call 
"lava."  It  is  a  honey-combed,  metallic-looking-  rock, 
which  on  being-  struck  with  a  sledg-e  emits  a  sulphur- 
ous smell.  The  sides  to  the  ungeolog-ical  eye  seem  of 
a  dilTerent  kind  of  rock.  But  parts  of  the  sides  arc 
iu)t  of  rock  at  all — they  are  of  g-ravel.  On  the  eastern 
slope  you  may  see  from  the  old  Sonora  stage  road  two 
parallel  lines,  perhaps  200  feet  apart,  running-  along- 
thc  mountain  side.  Mile  after  mile  do  these  marks 
run,  as  level  and  exact  as  if  laid  there  by  the  surveyor. 
CUnib  u])  to  them  and  you  find  these  lines  enlargied  to 
a  sort  of  shelf  or  wave-washed  and  indented  bank  of 
ha  I'd  cement,  like  g-ravel.  You  may  crawl  under  and 
sit  in  the  shade  of  an  overhang-ing  roof  of  g'ravel,  ap- 
parently in  some  former  ag-e  scooped  out  by  the  action 
of  waves.  Not  only  on  the  Table  Mountain  sides  do 
you  find  these  lines,  but  where  Table  Mountain  merg-es 
into  the  plains  about  Knig-ht's  Ferry  will  you  see  these 
same  water  marks  running  around  the  many  low  con- 
ical liills. 


100 

Ag^eological  supposition.  That's  what  water  seems 
to  have  done  outside  of  Table  Mountain.  Were  I  a 
geoloi^ist  I  should  say  that  here  had  been  a  lake — 
maybe  a  ijrreat  lake — which  at  some  other  time  had 
suddenly  from  the  first  mark  been  drained  down  to 
the  level  of  the  second,  and  from  tliat  had  drained  off 
altoi^-ether.  Perhaps  there  was  a  rise  in  the  Sieri-a 
Nevada,  and  everything-  rising-  with  it,  the  lake  went 
up  too  suddenh^  on  one  side  and  so  the  Avaters  went 
down  on  the  other.  Inside  of  Table  Mountain  there 
is  an  old  river  bed,  smoothly  washed  b^-  the  currents 
of  perhaps  as  many  if  not  more  centuries  than  any 
river  now  on  earth  has  seen,  and  this  forms  a  layer 
or  core  of  gold-bearing  gi^avel.  In  some  places  it  has 
paid  richh^:  in  more  places  it  has  not  paid  at  all. 

I  said  to  myself:  "This  Halsey  lead,  like  all  the 
leads  of  this  section,  runs  northeast  and  southwest." 
(N.  B. — Three  years  afterw-ard  we  found  there  were 
no  leads  at  all  in  that  section.)  "The  Halse^^  lead 
must  run  under  Table  Mountain  and  come  out  some- 
where on  the  other  side."  So  I  took  the  bearings  of 
the  Halsey  lead,  or  what  I  then  supposed  Avere  the 
bearings,  for  there  wasn't  any  lead  anyway,  with  a 
compass.  I  aimed  my  compass  at  a  point  on  the  ledge 
of  the  flat  summit  of  Table  Mountain.  I  hit  it.  Then 
I  climbed  up  over  the  two  water  shelves  oi-  banks  to 
that  point.  This  Avas  on  the  honey-combed  lava  crags. 
From  these  crags  one  could  see  afar  north  and  south. 
South,  OATT  Tuolumne  into  Mariposa  the  eye  following 
the  great  Avhite  quartz  outcrop  of  the  Mother  or 
Mariposa  lead.  North  Avas  Bear  Mountain,  the  Stan- 
islaus RiA'er  and  Stanislaus  County.  This  vicAv  ahvays 
reminded  me  of  the  place  Avliere  one  \^ery  great  and 


191 

very  bad  historical  persona i2;e  of  tlie  past  as  well  as 
the  present  showed  anotlier  still  greater  and  mnch 
better  Bein^-  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth.  For  the 
earth  wasn't  all  laid  out,  pre-empted  and  fenced  in 
those  days,  and  its  kingdoms  were  small.  Then  I  ran 
my  lines  over  the  flat  top  of  Table  Momitain,  south- 
east and  northwest.  So  the}^  said  ran  all  the  copper 
leads,  commencing-  at  Copperopolis.  So  then  we  be- 
lieved, while  tossing"  with  the  copper  fever.  Certainly 
they  ran  somewhere,  and  ran  fast  too,  for  we  never 
caught  any  paying  copper  vein  in  Tuolumne  Countj^, 
at  least  any  that  paid — except  to  sell. 

I  aimed  my  compass  down  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain.  There,  when  the  perpendicular  lava  rock 
stopped  pitching  straight  up  and  down,  sometimes 
fifty,  sometimes  two  hundred  feet,  was  a  dense  growth 
of  chaparral — the  kind  of  chaparral  we  called  "chemi- 
sal."  I  got  into  the  chemisal.  Here  the  com- 
pass was  of  no  more  use  than  would  be  a  certifi- 
cate of  Copperhead  copper  stock  to  pay  a  board 
bill.  It  was  a  furry,  prickly,  blinding,  bewildering, 
blundering,  irritating-  growth,  wliich  sent  a  pang 
through  a  man's  heart  and  a  pricker  into  his  skin  at 
every  step.  At  last,  crawling  down  it  on  all-four%s,  for 
I  could  not  walk,  dirty,  dusty,  thirsty,  and  perspiring, 
I  lit  on  a  rock,  an  outcrop  of  ledge.  It  was  g'ray  and 
moss  grown.  It  hid  and  guarded  faithfully-  the  trea- 
sure it  concealed.  Like  Moses,  I  struck  the  rock  with 
m^-  little  hatchet.  The  broken  piece  revealed  under- 
neath a  rotten,  sandy-like,  spongy  formation  of  crumb- 
ling, bluish,  greenish  hue.  It  was  copper!  I  had 
struck  it!  I  rained  down  more  blows!  Red  oxides, 
green  carbonates,  gray  and  blue  sulphurets!     I  had 


192 

found  the  Copperhead  lead !  I  was  rich.  I  g-ot  upon 
that  rock  and  danced!  Not  a  g-raceful,  but  an  entlui- 
siastic  pas  sen  I.  I  deemed  my  fortune  made.  I  was 
at  last  out  of  the  wilderness!     But  I  wasn't. 


193 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

RISE   AND   FALL   OF   COPPERHEAD   CITY. 

I  TRUDGED  back  nine  miles  to  Soiiora,  my  pockets 
full  of  ''specimens''  from  the  newly  discovered  claim, 
my  head  a  cyclone  of  copper-hued  air  castles.  I  saw 
the  "boys."  I  was  mysterious.  I  beckoned  them  to 
retired  spots.  I  showed  them  the  ores.  I  told  them 
of  the  find.  The}^  were  wild  with  excitement.  The\^ 
were  half  crazed  with  deli^'ht.  And  in  ten  minutes 
some  of  them  went  just  as  far  into  the  donuiins  of 
unrest  and  unhappiness  for  fear  some  one  mi^'ht  find 
and  jump  the  claim  ere  I  ^'ot  back  to  g'uard  it.  The 
Copperhead  Company  was  org-anized  that  night.  The 
"  Enthusiast/'  a  man  who  lived  in  the  very  top  loft  of 
copper  insanit3%  was  sent  down  with  me  to  superintend 
the  sinking  of  the  shaft.  The  secret  was  soon  out. 
Shares  in  the  vein  were  eagerly  coveted.  I  sold  a  few 
feet  for  $500  and  deemed  I  had  conferred  a  great  favor 
on  the  bu3'er  in  letting  it  go  so  cheaply.  I  lived  up, 
way  up,  in  tens  of  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  dollars.  The  "company"  in  Sonora  met 
almost  every  night  to  push  things  while  the  Enthu- 
siast and  myself  blasted  and  burrowed  in  the  rock. 
By  day  they  exhausted  their  spare  cash  in  horse  hire, 
riding  down  to  the  claim  in  hope  of  being  on  hand 
when  the  next  blast  should  reveal  a  bed  of  ore,  im- 
mense in  breadth  and  unfathomable  in  depth. 


ii)4 

My  Company  was  made  up  chiefly-  of  lawyers,  doc- 
tors, politicians,  and  editors.  They  never  realized 
how  much  they  were  indebted  to  me.  For  four  months 
I  made  them  feel  rich, — and  if  a  man  feels  rich,  what 
more  should  he  want  ?  For  a  millionaire  can  do  no 
more  than  feel  rich. 

Feeling"  certain  that  the  Copperhead  was  a  very 
rich  claim,  and  that  other  rich  claiuis  would  he  devel- 
oped from  the  ''extensions,"  and  that  a  bustliui;-  town 
Avould  be  the  result,  I  pre-empted  a  section  of  the  land 
which  I  deemed  most  valuable,  on  which  it  was  in- 
tended that  "  Copperhead  City  "  should  be  built.  This 
"city"  I  partly  laid  out.  I  think  this  was  the  third 
city  I  had  laid  out  m  California.  There  is  a  sepul- 
chral and  post-mortem  sui^-g'cstion  in  the  term  '*laid 
out"  which  is  peculiarly  applicable  to  all  the  "cities" 
Avhich  I  attempted  to  found,  and  which  "  cities  "  inva- 
riably foundered.  Actuated,  also,  at  that  time,  by 
those  business  principles  so  larg-el}^  prevalent  in  most 
Christian  communities,  I  "  claimed  "  the  only  spring-  of 
good  drinking  water  in  the  neighborhood  of  m3^  "  cit^^" 
My  intent  in  this  was  in  time  to  realize  a  profit  from 
the  indirect  sale  of  this  water  to  such  of  the  future 
"city's"  population  as  riiight  want  water — not  to  sell 
it  by  the  glass  or  gallon,  of  coiu^se;  but  if  there  was 
to  be  a  "city"  it  would  need  water-works.  Th(^ 
water-works  would  necessarily  lie  on  my  land.  I 
would  not  be  guilty  of  the  mhumanity  of  selhng  Avater 
to  parch-tongued  people,  but  I  proposed  that  the 
"city"  should  buy  of  me  the  ground  out  of  which  came 
the  water. 

But  one  house  was  ever  erected  in  Copperhead  City 
proper,  and  that  had  but  one  room.     But  three  men 


195 

ever  lived  in  it.     Yet  the  city  was  tliickly  populated. 
It  was  located  in  a  regular  juuii'le,  so  far  as  a  juni^'le 
is  ever  attained  in  California,  and  seemed  the  head- 
centre  and  trysting'-place  of  all  the  rattlesnakes,  coons, 
skunks,  owls,  and   foxes   on   the   west   side   of   Table 
Mountain.     When  the  winter  wore  otT  and  the  Avarm 
California  spring-  w^ore  on  and  merged  into  the  sum- 
mer heat  of  May,  and  the  pools  made  by  the  winter 
rains  dried  up,  I  think  all  the  rattlesnakes  and  cop- 
perheads for  miles  around  went  for  my  pre-empted 
spring  of  pure  water.   'The  ''city,"  I  mean  the  house, 
was  located  within  a  few  feet  of  the  spring.     Return- 
ing thither  at  noon  for  dinner,  I  have  started  half  a 
dozen  snakes  from  the  purlieus  and  suburbs  of  that 
spring.     Snakes  get  dry  like  human  beings.     Snakes 
love  water.     Snakes,  poor  things,  can't  get  anything 
else  to  drink,  and  nuist  fill  up  on  Avater.     These  were 
sociable  snakes.     When  startled  at  our  approach  they 
would   not  run  away  from   our  society.     No.     They 
preferred  to  remain  in  the  "city,"  and  so,  in  many  in- 
stances they  ran  under  the  house.    It  is  not  pleasant 
at  night  to  feel  that  you    are   sleeping  over  a  vet- 
eran  rattler  four  feet  long,  with   a   crown  of  glory 
on   lus  tail   in  the  shape  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  rat- 
tles.    You   won't   crawl   under   your  house   to   evict 
such   a  rattlesnake,   either.      Skunks   inhabited    our 
"  city,"  also.     Skunks  know  their  power— their  pecu- 
liar power. 

The  evening  gloaming  seems  the  favorite  time  for 
the  skunk  to  go  abroad.  He  or  she  loves  the  twilight. 
There  must  be  a  vein  of  sentiment  m  these  far-smell- 
mg  creatures.  I  have  in  the  early  evenmg  travelled  up 
the  only  street  our  "  city  "  ever  laid  out— a  trail— and 


IDG 

ahead  of  me  on  that  trail  I  have  seen  a  skunk.  I  was 
wilUng'  he  should  precede  me.  In  the  matter  of  rank- 
ness  I  was  perfectly  walling-  to  fall  a  long"  way  behind 
him.  Now,  if  3^ou  have  studied  skunks  you  will  know 
that  it  is  far  safer  to  remain  in  the  skunk's  rear 
tlian  to  get  ahead  of  him,  because  when  he  attacks 
Avitli  his  favorite  aromatic  means  of  oll'ensive  defence 
he  projects  himself  forward  (as  it  were).  I  have 
tlien,  in  ni}^  ciU^  liad  a  skunk  keep  the  trail  about 
fifty  feet  ahead  of  me  at  a  pace  which  indicated 
little  alarm  at  my  presence,  and,  do  my  best,  I  could 
not  frig'hten  the  animal,  nor  could  I  g-et  ahead  of  him 
or  her.  If  I  ran  he  ran ;  if  I  walked  he  concurred  in 
rapidity  of  pace.  I  dared  not  approach  too  near  the 
animal.  I  would  rather  break  in  upon  the  "sacred 
divinity ''  Avliich,  the^^  say,  "doth  hedge  a  king-"  than 
transg-ress  the  proper  bounds  to  be  observed  with 
reference  to  a  skunk.  Let  a  king-  do  his  best,  and  he 
cannot  punish  an  intruder  as  can  a  skunk. 

The  skunk  is  really  a  pretty  creature.  Its  tail 
droops  over  its  back,  like  the  plumes  of  the  Knig-ht 
of  Navarre.  It  is  an  object  which  can  really  be  ad- 
mired visuall3^  at  a  distance.  Do  not  be  allured  by 
him  to  too  near  approach.  "Beware!  he's  fooling- 
thee!" 

At  last  it  dawned  upon  the  collective  mind  of  the 
Copperhead  Companj^  that  their  Superintendent,  the 
Enthusiast,  was  dig-g-ing-  too  much  and  getting  down 
too  little.  They  accepted  his  resig-nation.  It  mat- 
tered little  to  him,  for  by  this  time  liis  mind  was  over- 
whelmed by  another  stupendous  mining-  scheme,  to 
which  the  Copperhead  was  bareh^  a  priming-.  He  had 
the  liappy  talent   of   living-   in   these   g-olden    visions 


197 

which;,  to  him,  were  perfect  reah'ties.  He  hekl  the  phil- 
osophy that  the  idea,  the  hope,  the  anticipation  of  a 
thing"  is  sometimes  more  "the  thing-"  than  the  thing* 
itself.  The  Enthusiast's  rich  mines  lay  principally  in 
his  head,  but  his  belief  in  them  gave  him  as  much 
pleasure  as  if  they  really  existed.  It  was  like  marr3^- 
ing",  sometimes.  The  long-sought-for,'  long-ed-for, 
wished-for  wife,  or  husband,  turns  out,  as  a  reality-,  a 
very  different  being'  from  what  he  or  she  was  deemed 
whii«'  iu  process  of  being-  long-ed  and  sought  for.  The 
long-longed-for  may  have  been  estimated  an  ang-el. 
Tlie  angel,  after  wedlock,  may  prove  to  have  been  a 
myth.  The  reality  may  be  a  devil,  or  within  a  few 
sliades  or  degrees  of  a  devil. 

So  the  shaft  was  sunk,  as  they  said,  properl^^  and 
scientifically,  by  the  new  Superintendent.  The  rock 
got  hai'der  as  we  went  down,  the  ore  less,  the  vein 
narrower,  the  quantity  of  water  g-reater,  the  progress 
slower,  the  weekly  expenses  first  doubled  and  then 
trebled,  the  stock  became  less  coveted,  and  as  to  re- 
puted value,  reached  that  fatal  dead  level  which  really 
means  that  it  is  on  its  downward  descent.  The  share- 
holders' faces  became  longer  and  longer  at  their 
weekl^^  Sunday  afternoon  meetings  in  the  Sonora 
Court-house. 

The  Copperhead  Claim  and  Copperhead  City  sub- 
sided quietly.  The  shareholders  became  tired  of  min- 
ing for  coin  to  pay  assessments  out  of  their  own 
pockets.  They  came  at  last  to  doubt  the  ever-glow- 
ing hopeful  assertion  of  the  Enthusiast  that  from  in- 
dications he  knew  the  "  ore  was  forming."  The  inevit- 
able came.  Copperhead  City  was  deserted  by  its 
human  inhabitants.     The  skunk,  the  snake,  the  squir- 


198 

rel,  the  woodpecker,  and  the  buzzard  came  ag-ain  into 
full  possession,  and  I  bitterly  regretted  that  I  had  not 
sold  more  at  ten  dollars  a  foot  when  I  found  the  stock 
a  drug-  at  ten  cents. 


199 


CHAPTER  XXV, 

PROSPECTING. 

The  failure  of  the  Copperhead  Claim  and  the  col- 
lapse of  Copperhead  City  did  not  discourage  me.  The 
flame  only  burned  the  brig-hter  to  go  forth  and  unearth 
the  veins  of  mineral  wealth  which  imagination  showed 
me  lying  far  and  near  in  this  land  still  of  such  recent 
settlement. 

This  was  in  18()3-G4.  The  great  silver  leads  of  Nevada 
had  but  recently-  been  discovered.  The  silver  excite- 
ment was  at  its  height.  People  were  thinking  that 
barely  the  threshold  of  the  mineral  richness  of  the 
Pacific  slope  had  been  reached  and  that  untold  trea- 
sure underground  awaited  the  prospector's  exploration 
north,  south,  and  east,  so  far  as  he  could  go. 

Fired  with  this  all-pervading  thought  I  projected 
one  of  the  grandest  of  my  failures.  I  organized  the 
"  Mulford  Mining-,  Prospecting,  and  Land  Company," 
whose  intent  was  to  take  up  and  hold  all  the  mineral 
veins  I  found  and  secure  all  desirable  locations  I  might 
come  upon  for  farms,  town  sites,  and  other  purposes. 

"Holdhig"  a  mineral  vein,  or  whatever  I  might 
imagine  to  be  a  mineral  vein,  could  be  done  after  the 
proper  notices  were  put  up,  by  performing  on  such 
veins  one  day's  work  a  month,  and  such  "day's  work" 
was  supposed  to  be  done  by  turning  up  a  few  shovel- 
fuls of  dirt  on  the  property. 


200 

M^^  Company  consisted  of  thirty  members,  who  lived 
at  vaiying-  distances  apart,  within  and  without  tlie 
county  of  Tuohimne.  For  my  services  as  g-eneral  pro- 
pector,  discoverer,  and  holder  of  all  properties  accumu- 
lated (by  m^'self)  I  was  to  receive  from  each  member 
three  dollars  per  month. 

I  fixed  this  princel^^  stipend  m^^self,  being"  then  ever 
in  fear  that  I  should  ovcn^harg-e  others  for  services 
rendered. 

By  dint  of  great  exertion,  I  succedeed  in  getting  one- 
third  of  the  membei'S  together  one  hot  summer  aftei'- 
noon  in  a  Montezuma  gi'ocery.  I  unfolded  then  the 
Company's  Constitution  and  By  Laws,  written  by 
m^'-self  at  great  length  on  several  sheets  of  foolscap 
pasted  together.  I  read  the  document.  It  provided 
for  the  Comi:)an3^  a  President,  Secretary,  Treasurer, 
and  Board  of  Directors.  It  set  forth  their  duties  and 
my  duties  as  "  General  Prospector."  I  was  particu- 
larly- stringent  and  rigid  regarding  m^^self  and  my  re- 
sponsibilities to  the  Company. 

The  fragment  of  the  new  Company  present  assented 
to  everything,  paid  in  their  first  instalment  of  tliree 
dollars,  and  bade  me  go  forth  and  "strike  something 
rich  "  as  quick l}^  as  possible. 

I  went  forth  at  first  afoot  with  the  few  dollars  paid 
me.  I  subsisted  in  a  hap-hazard — indeed  I  must  say 
beggarly  fashion,  stopping  vvitli  mining  friends  and 
dependent  to  great  extent  on  their  hospitality,  while 
I  "  held  "  the  few  claims  I  had  already-  found  and  found 
others  in  their  neighborhood. 

At  last  I  found  a  man  who  subscribed  the  use  of  a 
horse  for  the  summer  in  consideration  of  being  en- 
rolled as  a  shareholder.     On  similar  terms  I  gained  a 


201 

saddle,  a  shot-^^nin,  a  dosr,  and  some  provisions.  This 
put  the  "  Company  "  on  a  more  stable  footini;',  for  I 
was  now  no  longer  dependent  on  house  or  hospitality, 
and  could  stop  wherever  night  overtook  me,  and  wood, 
water,  and  grass  were  at  hand. 

My  horse  I  think  was  the  slowest  of  his  kind  in  the 
Great  West,  and  my  gun  kicked  so  vigorousl^^  when 
discharged  that  I  frequently  sustained  more  injury 
than  the  game  aimed  at. 

M}^  field  of  operations  extended  ovvv  150  mil(»s  of 
country,  from  the  foot  hills  of  the  Sierras  to  their 
summits  and  beyond  in  the  Territory  of  Nevada. 
Land,  wood,  water,  grass,  and  game,  if  found,  were  free 
in  every  direction.  The  country  was  not  fenced  in, 
the  meaning  of  "trespassing"  on  land  was  unknown — 
in  fact  it  was  then  really  a  free  country — a  term 
also  not  altogether  understood  in  the  older  States, 
where  if  you  build  a  camp-fire  in  a  wood  lot  you  run 
some  risk  from  the  farmer  w^ho  owns  it,  and  his  bull- 
dog. 

Sometimes,  I  would  be  a  week  or  ten  days  without 
seeing  a  human  face.  A  roof  rarely  covered  me.  I 
would  camp  one  day  near  a  mountain  summit  looking 
over  fifty  or  sixty  miles  of  territor^^  and  the  next  at 
its  base  with  a  view  bounded  b}^  a  wall  of  rock  a  few 
hundred  yards  distant.  Sometimes  I  was  very  lone- 
some and  uneasy  at  night  in  these  mountain  solitudes. 
I  longed  generally  about  sundown  for  some  one  to 
talk  to.  An^'thing  human  would  answer  such  purpose 
then.  In  the  bright  clear  morning  the  lonesome  feel- 
ing was  all  gone.  There  was  companionship  then  in 
the  trees,  the  clouds,  the  mountain  peaks,  far  and  near, 
3^et  there  were  times  when  the  veriest  clod  was  better 


202 

than  all  of  these.  Sometimes  nothing  but  another 
human  tong'ue  will  answer  our  needs,  thougli  it  be  a 
very  pool'  one. 

The  first  evening*  I  spent  alone  in  the  forest,  I  left 
mj^  dog-  "  Put "  to  guard  the  camp.  He  wanted  to  fol- 
low me.  I  drove  him  back.  He  went  back  like  a 
good  dog"  and  ate  up  most  of  my  bacon  which  I  had 
not  hung-  hig-h  enoug-h  on  the  tree.  63^  this  experi- 
ence I  learned  to  hang-  my  bacon  higher.  Wisdom 
must  always  be  paid  for. 

I  journeyed  in  the  primeval  forests  of  the  Sierras. 
The  primeval  forest  is  dismal  and  inconvenient  to 
travel  throug-h  with  fallen  and  rotten  tree  trunks  inter- 
lacing- each  other  in  ever^^  direction.  I  have  travelled 
half  a  da^^  and  found  m.yself  farther  than  ever  from 
the  place  I  wanted  to  reach.  I  have  made  at  eve  a 
comfortable  camp  under  a  gTeat  tree  and  when  all 
arrang-ements  were  completed  scrabbled  out  of  it  pre- 
cipitately and  packed  my  bagg-^ig't"  elsewhere  on  look- 
ing- up  and  seeing*  directly  above  me  a  huge  dead  limb 
hanging"  by  a  mere  splinter,  ready  to  fall  at  any  mo- 
ment and  impale  me.  I  think  I  know  just  how  Damo- 
cles felt  in  that  sword  and  hair  business.  Wolves 
soinetimes  frig-htened  me  at  nig-ht  exceeding-l}-^  Avith 
their  howling-s.  Bands  of  then  unwarlike  Indians  also 
scared  me.  They  were  Utes  fishing-  in  the  W^alker 
River.  Five  years  pi-evious  they  had  l)een  liostile. 
Oiu-e  I  stumbled  on  one  of  their  camps  on  the  river 
bank.  Before  I  could  sneak  off  unseen  one  of  tliem 
came  up  to  me,  announcing-  himself  as  the  chief.  He 
wanted  to  know  who  I  was,  vvliere  I  came  from,  and 
where  I  was  going-.  I  answered  all  the  questions  this 
potentate  asked  me,  acceded  to  his  request  for  some 


203 

"hoer^'adi ''  (tobacco),  and  when  I  found  myself  half  a 
mile  distant  from  His  ^lajesty  with  a  whole  skin  and 
all  of  my  worldly  ij;'oods  intact,  believed  more  firmly 
than  ever  in  a  kind  and  protecting;-  Providence.  I 
don't  suppose  I  stood  in  any  real  dang-er,  but  a  lone 
man  in  a  lone  country  with  an  average  of  one  white 
settler  to  every  five  square  miles  of  territory  won't 
naturally  feel  as  easy  in  such  circumstances  as  at  his 
own  breakfast  table. 

I  learned  never  to  pass  a  spot  having  wood,  water, 
and  grass  after  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  but  make 
my  camp  for  the  night  there.  I  learned  on  staking 
my  liorse  out,  not  to  give  him  pasture  too  near  my 
camp-fire,  for  more  than  once  in  changing  his  base  for 
a  better  mouthful  of  grass,  has  he  dragged  the  lariat 
over  my  temporary  possessions,  upsetting  coffee-pot 
and  frying-pan  and  knocking  the  whole  camp  endways. 
I  learned  to  camp  awaj'  from  the  main  road  or  trail 
leading  over  the  mountains  to  Nevada,  for  it  was  beset 
by  hungry,  ragged  men  who  had  started  afoot  for  the 
silver  mines  with  barely  a  cent  m  their  pockets,  trust- 
ing to  luck  to  get  through,  and  who  stumbling  on  my 
camp  must  be  fed.  You  can't  sit  and  eat  in  your  own 
out-door  kitchen  and  see  your  fellow-beings  e^^e  you  in 
hunger.  But  they  ate  me  at  times  out  of  house  and 
liome,  and  the  provision  laid  in  for  a  week  would  not 
last  three  days  with  such  guests.  An  old  Frenchman 
so  found  me  one  day  at  dinner.  He  was  starved.  I 
kept  my  fresh  meat  in  a  bag.  I  handed  him  the  bag" 
and  told  him  to  broil  for  himself  over  the  coals.  Then 
I  hauled  off  in  the  bush  a  little  while  to  look  at  some 
rock.  When  I  returned  the  bag  was  empty;  two 
pounds  of  beef  were   inside  the  Frencfiman    and  he 


204 

didn't  soom  at  all  abashed  or  iinoasy.  Those  experi- 
ences tanght  me  that  charity  and  sympathy  for  others 
must  be  kept  under  some  g-overnment  or  our  own  meal 
ba^s,  bread  baffs,  and  stomachs  may  go  empty. 

Grizzlies  were  common  in  those  mountain  solitudes, 
but  I  never  saw  one  nor  the  track  of  one,  nor  even 
thoug-ht  of  them  near  as  much  as  I  would  now,  if  pok- 
ing* about  in  the  chaparral  as  I  did  thou.  I  Avas 
camped  near  a  sheep  herder  one  evening,  when,  seeing 
my  fire  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  his  cabin,  he  came 
to  me  and  said,  "  Young  man,  this  isn't  a  good  place  to 
stop  in  over  night.  You're  right  in  the  track  of  the 
grizzlies.  They've  killed  twenty-six  of  my  sheep  inside 
of  three  weeks.  You'd  better  sleep  in  my  barn."  I 
did  so. 

I  learned  never  to  broil  a  steak  on  a  green  pitch-pine 
branch  till  I  got  accustomed  to  the  flavor  of  the  tur- 
pentine which  the  heat  would  distil  and  the  meat 
absorb. 

I  learned  that  when  you  have  nothing  for  bi'eakfast 
and  must  kill  the  only  robin  in  sight  or  go  without 
him,  that  robin  will  be  ten  times  shyer  and  harder  to 
coax  within  gunshot  than  when  3^ou  don't  hunger  for 
liim. 

I  was  not  strong  physically,  and  ind(Mxl  far  from 
being  a  well  man.  It  was  only  the  strong  desire  of 
finding  a  fortune  in  a  mineral  vein,  that  gave  me 
strength  at  all.  Once  I  was  sick  for  three  days, 
camj)ed  near  a  mountain  top,  and  though  it  was  June, 
everj^  day  brought  a  snow  squall.  A  prospector  from 
Silver  City  stumbled  on  my  camp  one  day  and  declared 
he  would  not  stay  in  such  a  place  for  all  the  silver  in 
Nevada.      The   wind   blew   from   a   different   quarter 


205 

about  every  hour,  and  no  matter  where  1  huilt  my  Vivv, 
mana2;'ed  matters  so  as  always  to  drive  the  smoke  in 
my  face.  It  converted  me  for  a  time  into  a  behef  of 
the  total  depravity  of  inanimate  thhigs. 

I  pre-empted  in  the  name  of  the  Company  some  of 
the  grandest  scener^^  in  the  world — valleys  seldom 
trodden  by  man,  with  clear  mountain  streams  flowin.i^" 
throug'h  them — lakes,  still  unnamed,  reflecting  the 
mountain  walls  surrounding  them  a  thousand  or  more 
feet  in  height,  and  beautiful  miniature  mountain  parks. 
In  pre-empting  tliem  their  commercial  value  entered 
little  into  my  calculations.  Sentiment  and  the  pic- 
turesque, did.  Claimants  stronger  than  I,  had  firmer 
possession  of  these  gems  of  the  Sierras.  The  chief  was 
snow,  under  which  they  were  buried  to  the  depth  of 
ten  or  fifteen  feet,  seven  months  at  least  out  of  the 
twelve. 

When  once  a  month  I  came  out  of  the  mountains 
and  put  in  an  appearance  among  my  shareholders,  my 
horse  burdened  with  blankets,  provisions,  tools,  the 
frying-pan  and  tin  cotTee-pot  atop  of  the  heap,  I  w^as 
generally  greeted  with  the  remark,  "  Well,  struck  any- 
thing yet  ? "  When  I  told  my  patrons  of  the  land 
sites  I  had  gained  for  them  so  advantageous  for  sum- 
mer pasturages,  they  did  not  seem  to  catch  mj^  enthu- 
siasm. They  wanted  gold,  bright  yellow  gold  or  silver, 
very  rich  and  extending  deep  in  the  ground,  more  than 
they  did  these  Occidental  Vales  of  Cashmere,  or  Cal- 
ifornian  Lakes  of  Como.  They  Avere  sordid  and  sensi- 
ble. I  was  romantic  and  ragged.  They  were  after 
what  paid.    I  was  after  what  pleased. 

The  monthly  three-dollar  assessment  from  each 
shareholder  came  harder  and  harder.     I  dreaded  to 


20G 

ask  for  it.  Besides,  two-thirds  of  ni.y  company  w(mm' 
scattered  over  so  much  country  that  the  time  and  ex- 
pense of  collecting-  ate  up  the  amount  received,  a  con- 
tingeiuy  I  had  not  foreseen  when  I  fixed  my  tax  I'ate. 

At  last  the  end  came.  The  man  who  suhscrihcd 
the  use  of  his  horse,  wanted  him  hack.  I  gave  him  up. 
This  dismounted  the  Company.  Operations  could  not 
he  carried  on  afoot  over  a  territory  larger  than  tlie 
State  of  Connecticut.  I  had  indeed  found  several  min- 
eral veins,  but  the^^  w^ere  in  that  numerous  catalogue 
of  "needing:  capital  to  develop  them."  The  General 
Prospector  also  needed  capital  to  buy  a  whole  suit  of 
clothes. 

I  was  obliged  to  suspend  operations.  When  I 
stopped  the  Company  stopped.  Indeed  I  did  not  find 
out  till  then,  that  I  ^vas  virtually  the  whole  "  Com- 
pany." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HIGH   LIFE. 

The  "Company"  died  its  peaccfal  death  where  I 
broil ^crht  lip  wlien  the  liorse  was  demanded  of  me  in 
Eureka  VaHey,  some  8,000  feet  above  the  sea  level,  at 
Dave  Hays'  mountain  ranch  and  tavern  on  the  Sonora 
and  Mono  road.  This  was  a  new  road  built  by  the 
counties  of  Stanislaus,  Tuohimne  and  Mono  to  rival 
tlie  Placerville  route,  then  crowded  with  teams  carry- 
ins:  merchandise  to  Virginia  City.  The  Mono  road 
cost  tliree  years  of  labor,  and  was  a  fine  piece  of  work. 
It  ran  along  steep  mountain  sides,  was  walled  in  many 
places  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  heig'ht  for  hundreds  of 
3'ards,  crossed  creeks  and  rivers  on  a  number  of  sub- 
stantial bridgres,  and  proved,  like  many  another  enter- 
pris(^  undertaken  in  California,  a  failure.  In  Eureka 
Valley  I  spent  the  winter  of  18fi4-G5.  I  had  the 
company  of  two  men,  Dave  Hays  and  Jack  Welch, 
both  g-ood  mountaineers,  g-ood  hunters,  g-ood  miners, 
ranchmen,  hotel-keepers,  g-ood  men  and  true  at  an^'- 
thing-  they  chose  to  turn  their  hands  to.  Both  are 
deserving-  of  a  fair  share  of  immortal  fame.  Ha^'S 
had  most  of  his  toes  frozen  off  at  the  second  joint 
a  winter  or  two  afterward,  as  he  had  become  over- 
confident and  thoug-ht  he  could  risk  an\'thing-  in  the 
mountains.  He  was  belated  one  winter  night  cross- 
ing- the  "Mountain   Brow,"  distant  some  forty  miles 


cast  of  Eureka  Valle3\  Over  tlie  "  Brow "  swept 
the  coldest  of  winds,  and  Hays  betook  himself  for 
shelter  to  a  sort  of  cave,  and  when  he  enierg-ed  in  the 
morning-  lie  was  as  g*ood  as  toeless.  In  point  of 
weatluu'  the  Sierra  summits  are  fearfully  deceitful. 
You  nuiy  cross  and  find  it  as  fair  as  an  October  day 
in  New  En^'land.  In  two  hours  a  storm  nuiy  come 
up,  the  air  be  filled  with  fine  minute  particles  of 
snow  blown  from  the  surroundini^  peaks,  and  these 
striking"  ag-ainst  you  like  millions  on  millions  of  fine 
needle-points  will  carry  the  heat  from  your  body  much 
faster  than  the  body  can  generate  it.  I  was  once 
nearl^^  frozen  to  death  in  one  of  these  snow -driving 
g-ales  when  less  than  three  miles  from  our  house. 
Hays  built  the  house  we  lived  in  and  it  would  have 
been  a  credit  to  any  architect.  It  was  fift^^  feet  in 
length  by  eighteen  in  width, and  made  of  logs, squared 
and  dovetailed  at  the  ends.  It  was  intended  for  a 
''^road  house."  Hays  was  landlord,  cook,  chamber- 
maid, and  barkeeper.  I  have  known  him  to  cook  a 
supper  for  a  dozen  guests  and  when  they  were  be- 
stowed in  their  blankets,  there  being  no  fiour  for 
breakfast,  he  would  jump  on  hoi'seback  and  ride  to 
Niagara  creek,  twelve  miles  distant,  supply  himself 
and  ride  back  to  cook  the  breakfast. 

When  the  winter  set  in  at  Eureka  Valley,  and 
it  set  in  very  early,  it  commenced  snowing.  It  never 
really  stopped  snowing  until  the  next  spring.  There 
were  intervals  of  more  or  less  hours  when  it  did 
not  snow,  but  there  was  always  snow  in  the  air; 
always  somewhere  in  the  heavens  that  grayish-whitey 
look  of  the  snow  cloud;  always  that  peculiar  chill  and 
smell,  too,  which  betoken  snow.     It  snowed  when  we 


209 

went  to  bed;  it  was  snowiiii];'  wlieii  we  j^ot  up;  it 
snowed  all  da^^  or  at  intervals  duriiii;-  the  day;  it  was 
ever  monotonously'  busy,  bus^^;  sometimes  big*  flakes, 
sometimes  little  flakes  comiui;'  down,  down,  down; 
coming-  deliberately  sti'aight  down,  or  dri\iug  furiously 
in  our  faces,  or  crossing  and  recrossing  in  zigzag  lines. 
The  snow  heavens  seenicd  but  a  few  feet  above  tlie 
mountain-tops;  they  looked  heavy  and  full  of  snow, 
and  gave  one  a  crushing-  sensation.  We  seemed  just 
between  two  gi*eat  bodies  of  snow,  one  above  our 
heads,  one  lying:  on  the  ground. 

Our  house,  whose  ridge-pole  was  full  eighteen  feet 
from  the  ground,  began  gradually  to  disappear.  At 
intervals  of  three  or  four  days  it  was  necessary  to 
shovel  the  snow  from  the  roof,  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  crushed  in.  This  added  to  the  accumulation 
about  us.  Snow  covered  up  the  windows  and  mounted 
to  the  eaves.  The  path  to  the  spring*  was  through  a 
cut  high  above  our  heads.  That  to  the  barn  was 
through  another  similar.  Snow  all  about  us  lay  at  an 
average  depth  of  eight  feet.  Only  the  sloping*  roof  of 
the  house  was  visible,  and  so  much  in  color  did  it  as- 
similate with  the  surrounding  rocks,  pines,  and  snow 
lliat  one  unacquainted  with  the  locality  might  have 
passed  witliin  a  few  feet  of  it  without  recognizing*  it  as 
a  human  residence. 

December,  January,  February,  and  March  passed, 
and  we  heard  nothing  from  the  great  world  outside  of 
and  below  us.  We  arose  in  the  morning*,  cooked,  ate 
our  breakfast,  got  out  fencing  stuff  till  dinner  time, 
going  and  returning  from  our  work  on  sno\vslioes,  and 
digging  in  the  snow  a  pit  large  enough  to  work  in. 
We  ate  our  noon  beans,  returned  to  work,  skated  back 


210 

to  the  hoiiso  bv  half-past  tAvo  to  i^rrt  in  firoAvood  foi- 
the  nig-ht,  and  at  half-past  tliree  or  four  the  darlv  win- 
ter's day  Avas  oA^er,  and  we  had  fifteen  hours  to  hve 
throiiiiii  before  getting*  the  next  day's  meai^re  allow- 
ance of  hg-ht,  for  Eureka  Valley  is  a  narrow  cleft  in 
the  mountains  not  oA'er  a  quai'ler  of  a  mile  in  Avidtli, 
and  lined  on  either  side  b}'  ridges  1,500  to  2,000  feet  in 
height.  The  sun  merely  looked  in  at  the  eastern  end 
about  nine  a.m.,  said  "  good  day/'  and  wns  off  again. 
We  rolled  in  sufficient  fireAvood  cA^'ry  night  to  supply 
any  ciA'ilized  family  for  a  Aveek.  TAvo-tliirds  of  the 
caloric  generated  Avent  up  oui*  chimney.  It  did  not 
haA'e  far  to  go,  either.  The  chimney  Avas  A'ery  Avide 
and  very  1oaa\  At  night  a  pt^rson  imacquainted  Avitli 
the  country  might  haA^e  tumbled  into  the  house  through 
that  chimney.  The  Avinds  of  heaA^en  did  tumble  into 
it  frequently,  scattering  ashes  and  sometimes  cinders 
throughout  the  domicil.  Sometimes  they  thus  assailed 
us  AA'hile  getting  breakfast.  We  consumed  ashes 
plentifully  in  our  breakfasts;  Ave  drank  small  charcoal 
in  our  cofTee;  Ave  found  it  in  the  bread.  On  cold  morn- 
ings the  flapjacks  Avould  cool  on  one  side  ere  the^'  were 
baked  on  the  other.  A  Avarm  meal  Avas  enjoyed  onl^^ 
by  placing  the  tin  coffee-cup  on  the  hot  coals  after 
drinking,  and  a  similar  process  Avas  necessary  with 
the  other  A'iands.  The  "  other  A^iands  "  A\-ere  generally 
bread,  bacon,  beans,  and  beef.  It  was  peculiar  beef. 
It  Avas  beef  fattened  on  oak  leaves  and  bark.  Perhaps 
some  of  you  California  ancients  ma^^  recollect  the  tAvo 
consecutive  rainless  summers  of  "'63"  and  "'64,"Avhen 
tens  of  thousands  of  cattle  Avere  driven  from  the  to- 
tally d:  ied-up  plains  into  the  mountains  for  feed. 
During  those  years,  at    the  Bock  River  ranch  in 


211 

Stanislaus  County,  wliere  the  plains  meet  the  first 
hunnnocks  of  the  Nevada  foothills,  I  have  seen  that 
long-,  lean  line  of  stagg-ehng-,  starving-,  dying-  kine 
stretching"  away  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  at 
ever^'  hundred  yards  lay  a  dead  or  d^^ing-  animal.  So 
the}^  went  for  days,  urg-ed  forward  hy  the  vaquero's 
lash  and  their  own  ag'on}^  for  something-  to  eat.  Even 
when  they  g-ained  the  grass  of  the  mountains  it  was 
on]}'  to  find  it  all  eaten  off  and  the  g-round  trodden  to 
a  dry,  red,  pow^der^'  dust  b^'  the  hungry  legions  which 
liad  preceded  them.  It  was  a  dreadful  sig-ht,  for  those 
poor  brutes  are  as  human  in  their  suffering-s  through 
deprivation  of  food  and  water,  when  at  night  the^-  la}^ 
down  and  moaned  on  the  parched  red  earth,  as  men, 
women,  and  cliildren  would  be.  Well,  the  strong-est 
survived  and  a  portion  reached  the  countr\^  about 
Eureka  Valley.  They  came  in,  fed  well  during-  the 
sununer,  and  one-third  at  least  never  Avent  out  ag-ain. 
The  vaqueros  could  not  keep  them  tog-ether  in  that 
roug'h  country.  They  wandered  about,  climbed  miles 
of  mountaii^idi's,  found  little  plateaus  or  valleys  hid- 
den away  here  or  tliere,  where  the}'  feasted  on  the  rich 
"bunch  grass.''  The}'  g-ained,  by  devious  windings, 
higii  mountain-tops  and  little  nooks  quite  hidden  from 
their  keepers'  e^'es  and  quite  past  finding-  out.  The 
herdsmen  could  not  collect  or  drive  them  all  out  in  the 
fall.  They  were  left  behind.  All  went  well  with  them 
until  the  first  snows  of  winter.  Then  instinctively 
those  cattle  sought  to  make  their  way  out  of  the 
mountain  fastnesses.  Instinctively,  too,  they  travelled 
westward  toward  the  plains.  And  at  the  same  time  the 
first  fall  of  snow  was  covered  with  tracks  of  deer,  bear 
and  Indians,  all  going-  down  to  the  warmer  regions. 


212 

But  the  cattle  were  too  late.  Their  progress  was  slow. 
More  and  more  snow  came  and  they  were  stopped. 
Some  thus  impeded  trod  down  the  snow  into  a  corral, 
round  Avhich  they  tramped  and  tramped  until  they 
froze  to  death.  Some  of  these  cattle  were  thus  em- 
bayed aloni^-  the  track  of  the  Sonora  and  Mono  road, 
and  the  white  man  making-  his  way  out  was  olilii^'ed 
to  turn  aside,  for  the  wide,  sharp-horned  beast  "held 
the  fort"  and  threatened  impalement  to  all  that  en- 
tered. Others,  finding-  the  south  and  sunny  sides  of 
tlie  mountains,  lived  there  until  February,  browsing  on 
the  oak  leaves  and  bark.  These  w^e  killed  occasionally 
and  buried  the  meat  in  the  snow  about  our  house. 
But  it  was  beef  (xuite  juiceless,  tasteless,  tough  and 
stringy.  It  was  literally  starvation  beef  for  those 
who  ate  it,  and  the  soup  we  made  from  it  was  in  color 
and  consistency  a  thin  and  almost  transparent  fluid. 

Foxes  in  abundance  were  about  us,  and  the^^  stayed 
all  winter.  They  were  of  all  shades  of  color  from  red 
to  grayish  black.  Now  a  story  was  current  in  the 
mountains  that  black-fox  skins  commanded  very  high 
prices,  say  from  $80  to  $100  each,  and  that  "silvery- 
grays"  would  bring  $25  or  $30.  So  we  bought  strych- 
nine, powdered  bits  of  beef  therewith,  scattered  them 
judiciously  about  the  valley,  and  wei'e  rewarded  with 
twenty  or  thirty  dead  foxes  by  spring.  It  requirtHl 
many  hours'  labor  to  dress  a  skin  properly,  for  the 
meat  and  fat  nuist  be  carefully  scraped  away  with  a 
bit  of  glass,  and  if  that  happened  to  cut  through  the 
hide  your  skin  is  good  for  nothing.  Certainly,  at  very 
moderate  wages,  each  skni  cost  $7  or  $8  in  the  labor 
requnx'd  to  trap,  or  poison  it,  if  you  please,  and  to  cure 
and  dress  it  afterward.     When  the  gentle  spring-time 


213 

came  and  access  was  obtained  to  certain  opulent  San 
Francisco  furriers,  we  were  offered  $1.50  for  the 
choicest  skins  and  37|  cents  for  the  ordinary-  ones. 
Whereat  the  mountaineer  g-ot  on  his  independence,  re- 
fused to  sell  his  hard-earned  peltries  at  such  beg-g-arly 
prices,  and  kept  them  for  his  own  use  and  adornment. 
Then  our  dog's  too  would  wander  off,  eat  the  strych- 
nined  fox  bait,  and  become  dead  dogs.  We  had  five 
when  the  winter  commenced,  which  number  in  the 
spring  was  reduced  to  one — the  most  worthless  of  all, 
and  the  very  one  wliicli  we  prayed  might  get  poisoned. 
Tliese  dogs  had  plenty  of  oak-bark  fattened  beef  at 
home.  They  were  never  stinted  in  this  respect.  What 
we  could  not  eat — and  the  most  of  the  beef  we  cooked 
we  couldn't  eat  —we  gave  freely  to  our  dogs.  But  that 
wouldn't  content  the  dog.  Like  man,  he  had  the  hunt- 
ing instinct  in  his  nature.  He  wanted  something  new; 
something  rich,  rare,  racy,  with  a  spice  of  adventure 
in  it;  sometliing  he  couldn't  get  at  home.  He  wanted 
to  find  a  bit  of  frozen  beef  in  some  far-off  romantic 
spot  a  mile  or  two  from  the  house  and  this  on  finding 
he  would  devour,  under  the  impression  that  stolen 
waters  are  sweet,  and  poisoned  beef  eaten  in  secret  is 
pleasant.  And  then  he  would  lay  himself  down  by  the 
frozen  brookside  and  g-ently  breathe  his  life  away;  or 
come  staggering",  shaking,  trembling  home,  under  the 
action  of  the  drug,  and  thus  dashing  in  our  domestic 
cii'cle  scatter  us  to  the  four  corners  of  the  big  log 
house,  thinking  him  a  mad  dog.  I  lost  thus  my  own 
dog, '"Put,"  named  briefly  after  General  Israel  Put- 
nam of  the  Revolution, 'a  most  intellig-ent  animal  of 
some  hybrid  species;  a  dog  that  while  alone  in  the 
mountains  I  could  leave  to  guard   my  camp,  with  a 


214 

certainty  that  he  would  devour  every  eatable  thiu^ 
left  witliin  his  reach  ere  my  return,  and  meet  me  after- 
ward ^vag•g•ing•  his  tail  and  licking  his  chops,  with  that 
truthful,  companionable  expression  in  his  eye,  which 
said  plainer  than  words:  "I've  done  it  again,  but  it 
was  so  good."  I  shall  never  own  another  dog  like 
"  Put,"  and  I  never  want  to.  He  would  climb  a  tree 
as  far  as  one  could  hang  a  bit  of  bacon  upon  it.  He 
would  in  lonesome  places  keep  me  awake  all  night, 
growling  and  barking  at  imaginary  beasts,  and  th<m 
fraternize  with  the  coyotes  and  invite  them  home  to 
breakfast.  Near  the  Big  Meadows,  in  Mono  County,  a 
disreputables  female  coyote  came  down  fi'om  a.  moun- 
tain side  and  followed  "  Put,"  one  morning  as  I  jour- 
ne^'ed  by  on  my  borrowed  steed,  howling,  yelping,  and 
fdling  the  surrounding  air  with  a  viragoish  clamor.  I 
presume  it  was  another  case  of  abandonment. 

It  was  a  winter  of  deathly  quiet  in  Eureka  V^alley. 
Enveloped  in  snow,  it  la^^  in  a  shroud.  Occasionally 
a  tempest  would  hud  its  way  into  the  gorge  and 
rampage  around  for  a  while,  roaring  through  the 
pines  and  dislodging  the  frozen  lumps  of  snow  in  their 
branches,  which  wiiirled  down,  bang !  bang !  bang !  like 
so  many  rocks  on  our  housetop.  Sometimes  we  heard 
the  rumble  of  rocks  or  snowslides  tumbling  from  the 
mountains.  But  usually  a  dead,  awful  quiet  prevailed. 
It  wore  on  one  worse  than  any  uproar.  No  sound 
from  day  to  da}^  of  rumble  or  rattle  of  cart  or  wagon, 
no  church  bells,  no  milkman's  bell,  no  gossip  or  chat- 
ter of  inhabitants,  no  street  for  them  to  walk  down  or 
gossip  in,  none  of  the  daily  clamor  of  civilized  life  save 
what  we  made  ourselves.  It  was  a  curious  sensation 
to  see  one  or  both  of  my  two  companioiis  at  a  distance 


215 

from  the  house.  They  looked  such  insig-nificant  specks 
in  the  whitened  valley.  And  to  meet  the  same  man 
after  four  or  five  hours  of  absence  and  to  know  that 
he  had  nothing-  new  to  tell,  that  he  hadn't  been  any- 
where in  a  certain  sense,  since  without  neighbors' 
houses  or  neighboring- villages  there  was  "nowhere" 
to  g-et  that  sort  of  bracing-up  that  one  derives  from 
any  sort  of  companionship. 

We  were  very  cozy  and  comfortable  during  those 
long  winter  nights,  seated  in  tlie  red  glare  of  our 
rudely-built,  wide-mouthed  fireplace.  But  sometimes, 
on  a  clear  moonlight  night,  I  have,  for  the  sake  of 
change,  put  on  the  snowshoes  and  glided  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  away  from  the  house.  In  that  intense  and 
icy  silence  the  beating  of  one's  heart  could  be  distinctly 
heard,  and  the  ci'unching  of  the  snow  under  foot 
sounded  liarsh  and  disagiveabU\  All  about  the 
myriads  of  tall  pines  in  the  valley  and  on  the  moun- 
tain-side were  pointing  straight  to  the  heavens,  and  the 
crags  in  black  shadow  above  and  behind  them  main- 
tained also  the  same  stern,  unyielding  silence.  The 
faintest  whisper  of  a  breeze  would  have  been  a  relief. 
If  you  gamed  an  elevation  it  was  but  to  see  and  feel 
more  miles  on  miles  of  snow,  pines,  peaks,  and  silence. 
Very  grand,  but  a  trifle  awful ;  it  seemed  as  if  every- 
thing must  have  stopped.  In  such  isolation  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  realize  that  miles  away  were  crowded,  bab- 
bling, bustling,  rallying,  roaring  cities,  fall  of  men  and 
women,  all  absorbed  and  intent  on  such  miserably 
trifling  tilings  as  boots  and  shoes,  pantaloons  and 
breakfasts,  suppers,  beds,  corsets,  and  cucumbers.  We 
Avere  outside  of  creation.  We  had  stepped  off.  We 
seemed   in   the  dread,  divary  outer  regions  of  space. 


210 

where  the  sun  had  not  warmed  thini;\s  into  life.  It 
was  an  awful  sort  of  church  and  a  cold  one.  It  nii^-ht 
not  make  a  sceptic  devotional;  it  would  certandy 
cause  him  to  wonder  wher*  he  came  from  or  where 
he  was  g'oing'  to.  A  half-hour  of  this  cold,  silent 
Sierran  wi.ter  morning  was  quite  enoug-h  of  the  sub- 
Ihne.  It  sent  one  hack  to  the  fireside  with  an  increased 
thankfulness  for  such  comforts  as  colfee,  tobacco,  and 
warm  blankets. 


317 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

LEAVING   HIGH    LIFE. 

N'ear  the  end  of  IMarch  I  resolved  to  leave  Eureka 
Varie3'.  Sonora,  Tuolunnie  County,  was  fifty-six  miles 
distant.  That  was  my  g'oal.  Thirty  miles  of  the  way 
la^'  over  deep  snow,  and  was  to  be  travelled  over  on 
snowshoes.  The  Norweg-ian  snowshoe  is  a  long-  wooden 
skate  or  runner,  turned  up  at  the  forward  end,  greased 
on  the  lower  side,  with  a  strap  in  the  middle  to  hold 
the  foot.  The  Indian  snowshoe  is  a  flat  network, 
fastened  to  a  frame,  in  shape  something  like  an  en- 
larged tennis  racket.  It  is  like  locomotion  shod 
with  a  couple  of  market-baskets.  The  principal  use 
of  the  pole,  carried  in  tlie  hands  with  the  Norwe- 
gian shoe,  is  to  serve  as  a  brake  and  h<'lm  while  go- 
ing downhill.  Some  put  it  under  the  arm  and  others 
straddle  it  while  making  a  descent.  The  arm  position 
is  the  most  dignified.  The  legs  must  be  kept  strad- 
(lled  at  a  ridiculous  distance  apart,  and  the  first  few 
da^'s'  practice  seems  to  split  a  person  nearly  in  two. 
If,  with  the  Indian  snowshoe,  yon  tumble  down  on  a 
hillside  it  is  ahnost  impossible  to  get  up  again,  and 
the  unfortunate  must  remain  in  a  recumbent  position 
very  much  like  that  assumed  by  the  heathen  when 
they  g-o  down  on  all  fours  before  their  god,  until  some 
one  unstraps  his  shoes.  I  preferred  the  Norwegian 
shoe.  The  first  pair  I  ever  used  I  made  one  evening 
about  dusk.     I  was  going  toward  Eureka  Valley  from 


218 

Sonora,  and  had  met  the  first  fallen  snow.  From  a 
mere  crisp  it  g'rew  deeper  and  deeper.  I  found  a  pile 
of  "  shakes  " — long",  roui^'h  shing-les  used  in  the  moun- 
tains— and  made  m^^  shoes  from  two  of  them.  They 
were  not  more  than  a  quarter  the  proper  length. 
They  kept  me  busy  the  rest  of  the  nig-ht  picking  m^'- 
self  up.  I  think  I  must  have  fallen  down  some  four 
hundred  times.  When  we  came  to  a  down  grade  the^^ 
went  of  their  own  accord  and  ran  away  with  me. 
Sometimes  but  one  shoe  would  slip  off  and  glide  down 
a  bank,  sometimes  two,  sometimes  all  of  us  went  to- 
gether, balance-i)ole  included,  and  a  bag  I  had  lashed 
to  my  back  would  swing  over  my  head  and  bang  me 
in  the  face.  It  was  a  lively  night's  entertainment  for 
only  one  man  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness.  There 
was  no  monotonj^  about  it;  nothing  tedious  or  depress- 
mg.  Just  as  fast  as  I  recovered  from  one  fall  and 
started  I  got  the  next.  I  swon^  a  good  deal.  There 
was  not  anything  else  to  be  said.  One  couldn't  argue 
with — things.  It  Avas  the  only  recreation  afforded  by 
that  phase  of  the  trip.  To  have  kept  one's  temper  and 
remained  expletiveless  would  have  been  to  burst.  I 
avoided  the  superior  and  more  expensive  epithets  as 
much  as  possible  and  confined  m3'self  to  second-rate 
strong  language.  But  Avhen  I  started  for  m}^  final 
trip  out  of  the  mountains,  I  had  become  a  tolerable 
snowshoe  amateur.  A  pack  was  lashed  to  my  back. 
It  held  a  blanket,  some  meat,  bread,  colfee,  sugar,  oik? 
fox  skin  and  my  worldly  wardrobe.  The  morning 
light  had  not  dawned  when  I  started. 

After  a  couple  of  miles'  advance  m^^  feet  felt  like 
lumps  of  ice.  I  examined  my  boots.  The  leather  was 
frozen  hard  and  stiff.     The  pain  was  too  great  for  en- 


219 

durance.  I  made  my  way  back  to  the  house,  found 
Ha\'s  and  Welch  at  breakfast,  removed  my  boots  and 
stockmgs,  and  saw  three  waxy-looking'  toes,  the  right 
big  one  included.  The^^  were  frozen.  The  heat  of  the 
lire  produced  additional  twinges,  hke  boring  with  red- 
liot  knitting-needles.  I  wrapped  some  thicknesses  of 
flannel  around  both  boots,  put  them  on  again,  and 
made  another  start.  Eureka  Valley  soon  disappeared 
behind  me.  I  never  saw  it  again,  and  probably  never 
sliall.  But  its  i)icture  is  indelibl}^  graven  on  my  mem- 
ory. We  lived  in  the  gem  of  the  locality.  All  the 
landscape  gardening  skill  in  the  world  could  produce 
nothing  to  equal  it.  A  clear  crystal  stream  ran  by 
the  door.  The  grove  was  a  natural  park,  level  as  a 
floor,  with  pines  all  about,  150  feet  high.  We  had  a 
cascade  and  little  miniature  mountains  of  rock,  with 
oak  and  pines  springing  from  their  crevices.  No  tame 
tree  could  be  coaxed  to  grow  as  did  these  wild  ones  of 
the  mountains.  Some  were  independent  of  soil  alto- 
gether, and  flourished  vigorously  rooted  in  rocky  fis- 
sures. We  had  the  tiniest  of  meadows  concealed  be- 
hind these  little  mountains  of  our  domain.  Other 
grassy  plateaus  were  perched  sixt^^  or  eighty  feet  over 
our  heads  on  the  mountain.  Nor  was  this  all  at  once 
revealed.  It  required  half  a  day  to  get  over  all  the 
labyrinth  of  meadow,  mount,  and  dale  within  half  a 
mile  of  our  house.  All  this  was  set  in  a  gigantic 
frame — the  dark  green,  thickly-w^ooded  mountain-sides 
running  up  2,000  feet  above  our  heads,  while  to  the 
eastward  through  the  narrow  gorge  rose  bare  peaks 
twenty  and  thirty  miles  away,  from  whose  tops,  on 
sunshiny,  breezy  mornings,  the  snow  could  be  seen 
driving  in  immense  vapor-hke  clouds  and   tinged  a 


220 

roseate  hue.    People  who  visit  the  Yosemite  have  seen 
but  one  of  the  thousand  pictures  set  in  the  Sierras. 

It  was  my  calcukxtion  to  get  to  Hulse's  enipt^^ 
lo^-house,  twelve  miles  distant,  and  camp  there  that 
nig-ht;  but  my  progress  was  very  slow.  The  road  for 
miles  ran  along  a  steep  mountain-side.  It  was  buried 
many  feet  in  snow.  It  was  all  a  sheet  of  snow  inclined 
at  an  angle  most  difhcult  to  travel.  In  places  acres  of 
snow  had  slipped  in  a  body  from  above,  covering  the 
ordinary  level  five  or  six  feet  in  depth.  These  accu- 
mulations, while  coming  down,  would  have  brushed  a 
human  being  away  with  the  facility  with  which  a 
cart-load  of  sand  dumped  on  your  cellar-door  Avould 
overwhelm  a  fly.  I  saw  whole  groves  of  i^ines  whose 
trunks  had  been  cut  off  by  these  slips  ten  or  twelve 
feet  from  the  roots.  I  felt  small  and  insignificant,  and 
speculated  whether,  after  all,  I  was  of  any  more  im- 
portance than  a  fl^^  or  any  other  bug  in  the  sum  total 
of  things  generally.  I  thought  of  how  much  more  im- 
portance a  man  was  in  a  newspaper  offtce  than  in  the 
solitude  of  these  mountains.  Then  the  sun  hurried 
toward  the  west  and  the  cold  blue  imd  brassy  tints  of 
the  winter's  eve  merged  together.  The  route  along 
the  "  Kiver  Hill "  side  became  steeper  and  steeper,  the 
siioAV  more  hummock}'  from  successive  slides  and  the 
way  more  disorganized.  It  was  very  slippery.  The 
snow  had  an  ice  finish  on  the  surface  like  a  hard  coat- 
in.i;'  of  (MKimcl.  I  took  off  the  snowshoes  and  bore 
them  and  the  balancing-pole  on  my  shoulders,  picking 
my  way  laboriously,  stei)  by  step.  Below  me  extended 
a  veiy  long,  smooth,  steep  slide,  like  a  white  Mansard 
roof,  several  hundred  feet  in  height.  Finall}^  I  was 
obliged  to  stamp  an  indentation  in  the  enamelled  sur- 


221 

fpce  at  every  step,  with  my  heels,  to  secure  footini?. 
The    shppery  and    reg-ularly   e^raded   descent  heloAV 
hroke  off  occasionally  into  precipices  of  fifty  or  sixty 
feet    in    heig-ht.     A  person    sUppini:;'   hQve    would,  of 
course,  accomplish  portions  of  the  descent  on  mere 
empty  air.     Tlie  trouble  was  not  so  much  in  g-etting- 
through  the  air  as  in  bringing  up  after  going  through. 
A  fall  never  hurts  anybody.     It's  the  sudden  stoppage 
when  you're  through.     I  expected  momentarily  to  slip. 
The  sun  was  rapidly  going  down  and  I  felt  a  tendency 
to  follow  suit.     At  the  point  where  I  did  slip  the  view 
was  magnificent.     Over  full  thirty  miles  of  peak  and 
pine  the  setting  sun  was  shedding.     I  saw  these  peaks 
disappear  like  a  flash.     The  grand  curtain  of  Nature 
was  not  rung  down  at  the  call  of  night.     It  was  I  who 
fell  before  the  curtain.     I  went  down  perhaps  three 
hundred  feet  of  the  incline,  generally  in  a  sitting  posi- 
tion.    My  long  Norwegian  sno^vshoes,  jerked  from  my 
grasp,  sailed  down  ahead  of  me,  one  diverging  a  little 
to  the  right,  the  other  to  the  left,  and  the  balancing 
pole  scooting  straight  ahead.     All  of  us  went  together 
with  a  beautiful  uniformity  and  regularity  of  forma- 
tion.    The  whole  descent  of  300  feet  did  not  occupy 
more  than  six  seconds,  yet  in  that  brief  space  of  time 
m}^  mind  appeared  to  photograph  on  itself  at  least  a 
dozen  phases  of  the  situation  and  as  many  past  mem- 
ories and  future  possibilities.     I  saw  the  stumps  seem- 
ing to  rush  past  me  uphill,  while  I  was  really  rushing 
past  them  downhill,  and  the  reflection  came  to  me 
that  if  I  colhded  with  even  one  of  them  the  result 
would  be  worse  for  me  than  the  stump.     This  did  not 
comfort  me.     As  each  successive  stump  hurried  up 
the   mountain   I  said,  by  the  unspoken  operation  of 


222 

thought,  "  There  g-ocs  another  stump.  A  miss  is  as 
good  as  a  mile.  I  may  bring-  up  in  one  piece  yet, 
thoug-li,  if  I  g-o  ofT  one  of  these  precipices,  I  may  make 
my  hist  appearance  on  any  stag-e  in  several  pieces." 
I  remember,  also,  the  sensation  caused  hy  the  seat  of 
ni}^  outside  pantaloons  tearing  out  throug-h  the  exces- 
sive friction.  I  had  on  two  pairs  of  pantaloons  when 
I  started.  I  thought,  also,  during-  all  these  risks  and 
ligiitning'-like  escapades  of  my  far-away  Eastern 
liome,  of  the  g'irls  I  had  left  behind  years  before,  of  the 
dear  old  cool  stone  door-steps  on  the  sycamore-ein- 
bowered  Main  street  of  our  villag-e,  on  which  the  g-irls 
used  to  sit  on  warm  summer  and  Sunday  nig-hts.  Yes, 
in  this  inappreciable  space  of  time  and  under  such 
extraordinary  conditions  I  thoug-ht  of  this,  and  even 
wondered  if  the  other  fellow  sat  there  now  with  his 
arm  hidden  in  the  darkness  of  the  hall,  where  they 
kept  no  lamp  in  summer  for  fear  of  drawing-  mosqui- 
toes, trying-  to  reach  round  that  g-irl.  The  human 
mind  is  certainly  a  wonderful  piece  of  business.  I 
think  the  more  it  is  shocked,  ag-itated,  and  stirred  up 
at  certain  intervals  the  faster  it  works  ?.nd  the  more 
it  takes  cog-nizance  of.  The  man  who  month  in  and 
month  out  moves  backward  and  forward  in  a  g-roove 
of  habit  is  apt  to  think  the  same  old  thoug-hts  over 
and  over  ag-ain  in  the  same  old  way.  The  man  who 
is  beaten  and  banged  about  from  pillar  to  post  and 
Dan  to  Beerslieba,  Avho  is  continually  tumbling-  into 
new  events  and  situations,  is  liable  to  think  a  great 
many  new  things  and  think  of  them  in  many  new 
ways.  From  a  mundane  consideration  of  time  on  this 
slide  I  soon  reached  my  destination.  Regarding  my 
own  mental  sensations,  the  trip  seemed  one  of  many 


223 

miiuites.  It  was  not  the  bottom  of  the  hill  where  I 
stopped.  The  bottom  of  that  hill  terminated  in  the 
Stanislaus  River,  and  was  preceded  by  a  precipice  200 
feet  high.  Had  I  g-one  olT  that  my  journey  downward 
would  have  been  accomplished  on  a  basis  of  three  of 
the  four  elements  loioAvn  to  the  ancients,  namely, 
earth,  air,  and  water,  and  from  all  accounts,  and  my 
own  impressions  of  my  deserts  at  that  period,  it  mig-ht 
have  ultimately  terininated  in  fire.  The  snow  was  soft 
where  I  broug'ht  up.  I  stopped.  "  It  is  g'ood  for  me 
to  be  here,'' I  said;  "here  will  I  pass  the  night."  I 
possessed  a  little  mountain  wisdom,  and  foresaw  the 
mipossibility  and  inutility  of  making-  the  ascent  that 
nig-ht.  I  had  belted  to  my  w^aist  a  sharp  hatchet. 
Around  me  were  man^^  dead  pine  limbs,  projecting- 
from  the  snow.  The  mountain-side  exposure  was 
southern.  About  the  roots  of  a  g-reat  pine  on  the  lit- 
tle plateau  where  I  had  broug-ht  up  the  snow  had 
partly  melted  away.  I  enlarg-ed  the  cavity,  using-  the 
hatchet  as  pick  and  shovel.  I  made  my  home  for  the 
nig-ht  in  this  cavity.  Kindling-  a  fire  with  my  dead 
branches,  I  chopped  directly  into  it  the  thick  dry  bark 
of  the  pine.  This  supply  of  fuel  alone  was  plentiful 
and  lasted  me  the  entire  night.  I  disclaim  here  all  in- 
tent of  posing-  in  print  as  a  hero,  for  on  many  occa- 
sions I  am  disg-usted  by  my  mental  and  physical  cow- 
ardice. But  on  this  particular  nig-ht,  and  it  was  a 
very  long-  one,  I  felt  no  fear;  I  spent  it  very  pleasantly. 
I  cooked  and  ate,  and  drank  my  coffee  with  a  relish, 
born  of  mountain  air  and  exercise.  M3'  coffee-pot  was 
another  peripatetic  appurtenance  belted  to  my  waist. 
Culinarily,  I  was  for  myself  a  travelling-  boarding- 
house,  being-  guest,  landlord  and  chambermaid  all  in 


224 

one.  The  fire  blazed  cheerfully,  and  the  fully-seasoned 
oak  branches  soon  made  a  bed  of  solid  live  coals.  My 
snow  hole  at  the  tree's  base  slowly  enlarged  as  it 
melted  awa^^  The  hillside  being-  inclined  carried 
away  all  the  moisture.  After  supper  I  sang-.  I  felt 
that  here  I  could  sing  in  safety  and  without  damage 
to  other  ears,  because  no  one  could  hear  me.  Music 
hath  charms  to  soothe,  and  all  that,  but  it  must  not 
be  savage  music.  Mine  at  that  time  was  savage.  It 
is  now.  If  I  feel  a  tendency'  to  inflict  an3^  vocal  misery 
on  mankind,  I  go  forth  into  solitude,  and  commit  the 
outrage  on  inanimate  defenseless  objects  which  cannot 
strike  back.  After  singing,  I  spoke  all  the  piec(\s  of 
my  schoolboy  days.  I  quoted  Shakespeare,  and  really 
admired  myself  in  Hamlet's  solilocpiy.  I  never  heard 
a  more  satisfactory  rendition.  This  was  another  piece 
of  consideration  for  my  fellow-beings.  Others,  less 
sensitive  to  the  ill  they  ma^^  do,  rush  on  the  stage 
and  torture  audiences.  After  the  dramatic  perform- 
ance I  reheai'sed  my  political  speech.  I  was  even 
coming  from  the  mountains  with  full  intent  to  stand, 
or  rather  run,  for  the  Legislature  from  Tuolumne 
Count}^,  which  I  did,  greatly  to  the  misery  of  the  part3\ 
The  speech  was  impromptu.  So  the  long  night  wore 
away.  The  day  became  overcast.  The  winds  occa- 
sionally stirred  and  moaned  through  the  lofty  pines 
above  me.  Then  the}^  sank  to  soft  mournful  whispering 
music  and  ceased.  The  snapping  of  the  fii'e  sounded 
sharply  in  the  solitude.  From  the  river  far  below 
came  a  confused,  murmuring,  babbling  sound  like  the 
clamor  of  some  vast,  distant  multitude,  and  this 
seemed  varied  at  times  by  cries  weird  and  louder. 
Lumps  of  frozen  sno^v  fell  from  treetops  far  and  near. 


225 

and  as  tliey  struck  branch  after  branch  sounded  hke 
the  pkmging-  of  horses  in  the  drifts.  I  dozed  fitfully 
and  awoke  with  the  red  coals  staring-  nie  in  the  face 
and  the  startling*  realization  that  the  elements  were 
preparing  for  a  heavy  storm. 


236 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   LAST  OF   HIGH   LIFE. 

In  writing  this  experience  I  disdain  all  intent  of 
making:  myself  out  a  first-class  sufferer  or  adventurer. 
Other  men  by  hundreds  on  our  frontiers  have  endured 
far  more,  suflered  far  more,  passed  through  numy 
more  perils,  and  combated  them  more  courageously. 
Mine  as  compared  to  theirs  is  a  mere  priming,  a  rush- 
light candle  to  an  electric  lamp.  Our  mountains  and 
lone  valleys  hold  many  a  skeleton  whose  unburied, 
unrecorded  bones  are  the  only  relics  and  proofs  of  a 
live,  lingering  death,  preceded  by  hours  of  pain  and 
misery.  Mine  was  the  merest  foretaste  of  their  hard- 
ships and  sufferings,  and  it  is  m^^  chief  desire  that 
this  story  shall  help  to  a  clearer  realization  of  the 
perils,  hardships,  and  sufferings  of  our  unknown  pio- 
neers. I  passed  a  very  comfortable  night  at  the  foot 
of  my  snowslide,  save  sundry  aches  in  my  three  frozen 
toes.  I  have  passed  very  man^^  nights  far  more  un- 
comfortabl}'  when  surrounded  by  all  the  so-called  com- 
forts of  civilization,  in  insect-infested  beds  at  slovenly 
taverns,  in  rooms  stifling  with  the  midsummer  heat  of 
New  York;  in  cold,  ffreless  chambers  Avith  damp  beds. 
Some  of  our  civilization  doesn't  civilize  in  the  matter 
of  comfort.  Down  there  in  my  snow  hole  I  was  bet- 
ter off  in  regard  to  artificial  heat  than  one-third  the 
population  of  France,  who,  in  their  damp  stone  houses, 


227' 

shiver  over  a  pot  of  coals  from  November  till  April, 
while  tJioiisaiuls  have  not  even  this  luxury.  I  had  any 
amount  of  fuel  about  me,,  provisions  for  days,  powder 
and  shot,  and  if  more  snow  came  I  had  but  to  let  it 
fall,  build  up  the  walls  of  my  hole  and  protect  me  from 
the  blasts.  I  knew  of  a  man  caught  thus  in  a  storm 
on  the  Summit,  who  made  a  hole  for  himself  by  kind- 
ling" a  fire  on  the  snow,  allowing'  it  to  melt,  and  g'oing- 
downward  with  it  as  it  melted.  When  the  storm 
ended  his  cavity  was  twice  the  size  of  a  hogshead,  and 
he  emerge  i  from  it  and  came  to  oiu^  house  in  Eureka 
Valley.  Snow  rightly  applied,  will  prove  man's  great- 
est protector  from  cold,  providing  it  is  deep  enough. 
It  is  the  intensely  cold  blast  sweeping  over  hard,  frozen 
ground,  that  kills  both  animal  and  vegetable  life. 

I  looked  up  at  dawn,  after  finishing  my  breakfast, 
or  rather  the  remains  of  the  banquet  which  had  con- 
tinued at  intervals  all  night — for  there  is  nothing  like 
eating  and  drinking  to  keep  up  one's  spirits  and  keep 
out  the  cold,  and  one  strong  cup  of  coffee  under  such 
conditions  is  worth  a  pint  of  whiskey,  since  it  gives  a 
renewal  of  vigor  which  doesn't  flash  up  and  then  out 
like  alcohol.  I  looked  on  the  contract  before  me.  I 
had  that  three  hundred  feet  of  steep  icy  incline  to 
climb.  There  was  no  getting  round  it  by  gradual  or 
zigzag  upward  approaches.  The  wa^-  to  the  right  and 
left  broke  off  in  ugly  precipices.  A  little  exploration 
to  find  an  easier  route  satisfied  me  and  sent  me  back 
frightened  to  my  camp.  For  crossing  on  what  I 
deemed  snows  Avith  a  firm  foundation  underneath,  I 
was  startled  to  find  my  pole  running  through  this 
surface  in  an  empty  void  beneath.  Then  the  entire 
area  for  twenty  feet  square  suddenly  settled  down  an 


228 

inch  or  two  witli  an  ominous  scriincli!  which  sent  nn^ 
lieart  seemingly  up  in  ni}'  mouth  and  my  liair  up  on 
its  various  ends.  I  was  walking-  on  a  frail  crust  of 
snow  which  had  formed  over  the  deep  gorges  ploughed 
by  the  rains  and  torrents  of  ages  doAvn  tlie  mountain 
side.  Some  of  these  were  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  deej), 
with  rocky  sides  almost  perpendicular,  and  such  pits, 
blocked  up  at  either  end  with  snow,  were  regular 
man-traps.  I  hauled  m^^self  up  to  the  place  from 
whence  I  had  shpped  the  previous  evening*.  The  job 
occupied  the  entire  morning.  There  were  the  two 
snovvshoes,  the  pole  and  my  pack  to  manage,  besides 
my  own  earthly  organization.  In  places  the  descent 
was  so  steep  that  I  was  obliged  to  drag  myself  and 
cargo  upward  a  foot  at  a  time,  and  then  chock  my 
feet  with  a  knife  to  prevent  slipping  back.  The  moral 
of  which  is,  it  is  easier  to  go  down  than  to  go  up,  and 
easier  to  fall  than  to  rise  in  many  ways.  It  does  seem 
singular  that  these  coincidences  sliould  be  so  coinci- 
dent between  the  world  of  materiality  and  that  of 
moralit3^  It  was  a  very  laborious  task,  and  when 
about  noon  I  reached  the  top,  I  was  sick  from  exhaus- 
tion, and  lay  down  for  some  minutes  on  the  ledge  of 
snow  hardly  wide  enough  to  hold  me.  Then,  with 
shaky  knees,  I  picked  my  way  very  slowly  over  an- 
other dangerous  mile  around  the  mountain-side,  whei'e 
every  step  was  furnished  with  extra  accommodation 
for  slipping,  and  in  many  spots  where,  had  I  slipped, 
I  should  have  gone  farther  and  fared  much  worse 
than  on  the  evening  before.  I  wished  I  was  a  goose, 
for  a  goose  could  in  four  minutes  have  accomplished  a 
distance  which  took  me  all  da^^  We  pride  ourselves 
on  our  powers  and  the  ways  and  means  we  have  de- 


220 

vised  for  transporting  our  clumsy  carcases,  but  after 
all,  in  point  of  locomotion,  we  are  individually  miser- 
ably- inferior  to  a  goose,  and  all  our  in*^enuity  and 
mind  has  not  been  able  only  to  lift  us  from  the  in- 
ferior position  Avherein  nature  has  in  this  respect 
placed  us,  as  compared  with  a  goose. 

I  arrived  at  Hulse's  euipty  cabin  about  an  hour 
before  dai'k.  The  place  looked  melanchoh',  murder- 
ous, and  cold.  The  localit}'  was  higher  than  ours  in 
Eureka  Valle^^  and  not  so  well  protected.  Of  the 
liouse  little  was  visible  save  the  ridgepole.  Five  feet 
of  snow  lay  on  the  kitchen  roof,  which  could  easily  be 
walked  on.  I  gained  entrance  with  some  difficulty 
through  tho  upper  sash  of  a  front  window.  The  iloor 
was  permanently  l)arred  for  the  wint<H'  by  snow.  I 
was  no  sooner  in  the  house  than  the  re([uirements  of 
the  situation  drove  me  out  again  to  collect  fuel  for 
the  night.  There  was  no  rest  for  the  wicked.  It 
is  only  when  man  is  entii'ely  alone  that  he  realizes 
how  many  things  are  necessary  not  only  to  his  com- 
fort but  his  very  existence.  A  bear  could  have  lain 
during  the  night  in  comfort  at  that  house  on  a  bed  of 
straw.  The  assertion  that  "man  wants  but  little  here 
below"  is  not  true,  and  should  no  longer  pass  uncon- 
ti^adicted.  Here  was  I,  at  that  time,  a  dweller  in  the 
wilderness  with  the  foxes — a  tramp,  standing  almost 
within  the  threshhold  of  beggary,  ow^ner  neither  of 
house  nor  lands,  and  a  cipher  "on  change."  Yet  I 
couldn't  get  along  withou^  iron  and  steel,  phosphoi-us 
and  sulphur,  or  jny  matches,  coffee  from  the  tropics, 
sugar  from  the  Indies,  salt  from  somewhere^  x^^PP<'i' 
from  pepperland,  grain  ground  to  flour,  chemicals  to 
"raise  it,"  tea  from  Cliina,  and  utensils  of  tin  to  keep 


230 

it  in.  It  is  g-ood  to  be  so  alone  once  in  one's  life  to 
realize  liow  much  man's  present  develcpinent  is  due 
to  the  numberless  articles  he  bring-s  from  all  tlie  ends 
of  the  earth  for  his  subsistence  and  comfort,  and  what 
an  endless  amount  of  labor  is  necessar^^  to  keep  him 
up  to  his  present  standard  of  development. 

My  fuel  was  pine  bark,  stripped  from  the  surround- 
ing- trees.  It  came  off  easil^^  in  great  sheets,  making- 
an  imposing--! ooking-  pile  as  heaped  in  the  kitchen,  and 
burned  like  shavings.  The  night  passed  in  alternate 
cat  naps  and  firing-  up.  I  would  doze,  to  wake  up 
shivering-,  finding-  the  room  dark  and  the  fire  nearly 
out.  Tlirowing-  on  more  baik,  the  flames  leaped  up. 
I  dozed  ag:ain,  to  wake  up  in  cold  and  darkness  as 
before.  It  was  a  g-loomier  camp  than  the  one  of  the 
nig-ht  previous.  An  empty  jiouse  always  has  a  tomb- 
like atmosphere  about  it,  and,  when  alone,  I  prefer  a 
bivouac  under  the  trees.  With  morning-  came  a 
heavy  snowstorm,  or  rather  a  continuation  of  the 
snow  that  had  been  falling-  all  winter.  I  started  out. 
The  pine  boug-hs  along-  the  road  brushed  my  face, 
where,  in  summer,  they  would  have  been  many  feet 
over  my  head.  The  strap  of  one  of  my  snowshoes 
tore  out  of  the  wood,  and  left  me  crippled  as  to 
further  prog-ress  until  I  impaired  it.  The  snow  was 
soft,  and  to  g-et  off  the  shoes  was  to  sink  in  it  to  the 
middle.  I  was  literally  afloat  on  a  sea  of  suoav,  and 
to  g^et  overboard  w^as  to  foundc^r  and  floiuider — an- 
other proof  of  man's  miserable  helplessness  as  com- 
pared with  the  g-oose.  It  beg-an  to  occur  to  me  that 
this  storm  was  one  of  unusual  severitj^-.  It  blew  vio- 
k'ntly,  and  the  snow  at  times  came  in  such  whirls 
that  I  could  not  open  my  e^^es  for  several  seconds.     If 


231 

I  had  not  in  this  stoiy  determined,  in  point  of  det;  il, 
to  reduce  everytliing'  to  a  rigid  mathematical  accurat  y 
of  statement,  I  mii^lit  sa\^  that  the  snow  blinded 
me  for  minutes,  since  seconds  seem  very  long-  under 
these  circumstances.  Time  seems  to  be  a  quality  or  a 
something',  which,  in  point  of  length  or  shortness,,  is 
largely  dependent  on  one's  conditon  and  sensations. 
A  good  time  is  always  short — a  bad  time  always  long-. 
The  aim  on  starting-  that  morning-  was  to  reach 
Strawberry  Fhit,  fourteen  miles  distant.  There  is  no 
road  over  the  Sierras  without  its  Strawberry  Flat, 
g-enerally  so  called  because  no  strawberries  are  ever 
found  there.  Tliis  Strawb(.>rry  Flat,  then,  contained  a 
population  of  four  men,  and  was  reg-arded  by  us  in 
Eureka  valley  as  a  bustling-  place.  In  two  hours  I 
grave  up  all  idea  of  reaching-  Strawberry  Flat,  and  I 
conc(»ntrated  my  hopes  on  an  empty  house  four  miles 
below  Hulse  s.  Given  good  weather  and  a  crust  on 
the  snow,  I  could  with  tolerable  ease  have  made 
the  fourteen  miles  between  Huls(^'s  and  Strawberry. 
But  the  wind  was  ahead,  the  snow  constantly  blinded 
me,  and  as  it  came  much  more  horizontally  as  driven 
b3^  the  blast  than  perpendicularly,  and  -being-  of  a 
sleety  nature,  formed  at  intervals  of  every  few  min- 
utes a  slim  film  of  ice  on  my  face,  which,  as  Avith  my 
hand  1  swept  it  off,  fell  to  the  ground  in  broken  ice  casts 
of  my  ordinary  countenance.  The  empty  house  was 
at  last  reached.  It  was  past  noon.  The  empty  house 
was  not  there.  Where  it  once  stood  was  more  empty 
than  ever.  The  weight  of  the  snow  had  crushed  the 
shanty.  A  fe  v  timbers  and  splinters  sticking  out  told 
the  story.  There  was  but  one  thing-  to  do — return 
to  Hulse's.     To  go  forward  was  impossible,  and  so  I 


232 

foug-ht  my  way  back.  It  was  a  hard  figlit,  for  tho 
wind  and  the  snow  at  times  seemed  as  if  inspired  hy 
the  demons  of  the  air  or  some  spirit  cause  or  effect 
which  is  expressed  by  such  term.  Tliey  beat  and  buf- 
feted and  blinded  me,  so  that  twice  I  lost  my  way, 
blundered  about  in  circles,  and  g'ot  back  to  Hulsc's 
about  three  in  the  afternoon  only  through  the  wandci- 
ing-  of  sheer  stupidity  or  the  guidance  of  some  special 
providence — perhaps  both.  Tired  as  I  was  it  was 
necessary  to  go  straightway  to  work  and  get  in  more 
pine  bark  for  the  night.  There  Avas  no  lack  of  busi- 
ness on  this  trip.  I  nev:^r  had  a  monu^nt  to  spare 
from  morning  till  night.  One's  body  is  an  imperious 
master,  and,  unsupported  by  civilizatidu  or  the  help 
of  one's  fellow-beings,  it  keeps  one  ou  tlie  k«MMi  jum)) 
to  supply  it  with  food,  fuel,  and  cover. 

As  I  lay  stretched  in  my  blankets  befoi-e  the  blaze 
that  nig-ht  I  heard  from  time  to  time  a  sharp  crack 
overhead.  I  gazcnl  upAvard  and  made  a  most  unpleas- 
ant discovery.  It  Avas  another  form  of  Damocles' 
SAvoi'd  over  m<'.  The  rafters  Avere  bent  like  bows 
from  th(^  great  pressure  of  the  snoAV  on  the  I'oof.  The 
cracking  Avas  a  notice  that  they  might  not  stand  the 
strain  much  longer.  The  roof  might  at  any  time  tum- 
ble in  with  several  tons  of  snoAv  upon  me.  This  weight 
Avas  steadily  increasing.  I  could  not  go  out  in  th(* 
storm,  nor  could  I  remove  the  snoAv  from  the  roof. 
The  situation  kept  my  mind  busy  Avidle  th(^  body  was 
at  rest,  and  anxiety  and  susp(Mise  aiv  about  as  Avear- 
ing  as  toting  in  pine  bark  alter  snoAv-shocing  all  day 
in  a  snoAVstorm.  Hulse's  Avas  my  home  and  anxious 
seat  for  tAvo  days.  The  sword  of  Damocles  hung  and 
cracked,  but  did  not  fall.     I  found   Hulse's  store  of 


233 

provision  under  the  boards  of  the  front  room  floor. 
The  boards  were  weig'hted  down  by  a  great  pile  of 
shingles.  It  was  this  monument  of  shingles  in  the 
parlor  which  caused  me  to  suspect  the  existence  of  the 
cache.  Taking  from  the  big  box  I  found  underneath 
a  renewed  supph'  of  flour  and  pork,  and  breaking  the 
face  of  Hulse's  famil^^  clock,  also  packed  therein,  a 
matter  never  revealed  until  this  present  writing,  I  re- 
closed  it,  bui'ied  it,  boarded  it  over  and  re-piled  the 
shingles  over  it. 

On  the  fourth  morning  o£  this  excursion  the  storm 
was  over,  the  sky  clear,  the  h(\avens  brightly  blue, 
and  the  newly  fallen  snow  had  dressed  the  x^ines  all 
in  new  suits.  For  the  second  time  I  bade  HiUse's  lone 
house  a  doubtful  farewell,  for  after  travelling  all  day 
I  had  before  succeeded  only  in  bringing  up  there 
at  night,  and  know  not  but  that  I  might  do  so 
again.  The  newly  fallen  snow  being'  very  light  and 
feathery,  I  made  slow  progress.  A  frozen  crust  grants 
the  best  track  for  snowshoes.  As  the  sun  got  higher 
it  melted  this  feathery  top  snow,  fusing  it  into  a  close, 
sodden  mass,  which  stuck  and  bunched  on  the  bot- 
toms of  the  shoe  runners.  This  delayed  me  still  more. 
Other  troublesome  obstacles  were  the  little  rivulets 
and  brooks,  which,  cutting  through  the  snow,  left 
banks  on  either  side  six  or  seven  feet  in  height.  To 
climb  these  was  difficult.  The  snow  gave  way,  and 
one  could  only  flounder  through  and  up  to  the  top. 
Besides,  it  was  necessary  to  wade  the  creeks.  This 
wet  my  feet  and  caused  more  snow  to  bunch  and 
freeze  on  them.  Night  came,  and  with  it  an  increase 
of  cold,  which,  causing  the  snow  to  freeze  to  a  crust  on 
top,  iced  and  smoothed  the  track  anew  for  me.     But 


23-i 

with  one  additional  facility  for  making"  proi^Trss^  I 
lacked  another.  That  was  the  streni^th  and  freshness 
with  which  I  had  started  at  morn. 

My  day  had  been  one  of  most  laborious  progress, 
wading-  creeks,  floundering"  throug-h  their  soft  snow- 
banks, and  stopping"  every  ten  minutes  to  clean  my 
shoes  of  damp  snow.  I  had  no  other  g-rease  for  their 
bottoms  save  a  bit  of  pork,  which  I  wore  out  upon 
them.  Snowshoes  won't  run  well  unless  frequently 
g"reased.  Then  there  was  no  rest  for  m^^  body.  The 
supph^  of  pines  from  about  Avhose  roots  the  snow 
had  melted  away  had  g'iven  out;  to  step  olf  the  shoes 
was  to  sink  to  the  middle;  to  rest  at  all  was  to  rest 
squatting";  a  few  minutes'  trial  of  this  position  under 
the  most  favorable  circumstances  will  convince  any 
reader  of  its  back-aching-  tendencies.  Man  is  a  lying- 
animal;  I  mean  he  must  Ue  down  to  recuperate.  My 
meals  I  cooked  on  the  snow.  The  regular  vie  mi  was 
colTee,  bread,  and  pork.  The  base  of  the  kitchen  was 
a  big"  piece  of  dry  pine  bark,  ahxTn's  at  hand,  (^n  this 
the  fire  was  kindled.  The  evolution  of  colTee  under 
these  conditions  was  slow,  because  the  water  for  mak- 
ing it  had  first  to  be  melted  from  snow  in  the  coffee- 
pot, and  snow  under  these  circumstances  melts  with 
an  exasperating"  slowness.  The  quantity  required  to 
make  a  sing-le  pint  of  water  is  something  remarkable. 
I  think  I  was  obliged  to  fill  that  vessel  four  oi-  five 
times  with  snow  to  get  the  suitable  quantity  of  water. 
Then  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  water  Avould 
not  proceed  to  boil  until  all  the  snow  was  melted.  "A 
watched  pot  never  boils,"  but  a  watched  pot  of  plain 
water  is  velocity  itself  when  compared  with  a  pot  of 
snow  and  water  watched  by  a  tired  and  hungry  T)eing 


2;]5 
in  the  wilderness.  Niglit  found  me  twelve  miles  from 
Strawberry  Flat.  About  one  in  the  morning'  I  found 
another  empty  cabin.  This  was  four  miles  from  the 
desired  haven.  It  was  desolation  inside  and  out — the 
windows  gone,  the  door  torn  from  its  hinges,  the  in- 
side a  litter  of  snow  and  rubbish,  and  one  dead  cow  in 
the  kitchen.  The  cooking-stove  remained.  I  cleared 
the  grate  of  snow  and  attempted  a  fire.  It  wouldn't 
draw.  Of  course  it  wouldn't  draw,  for  the  stovepipe 
was  full  of  snow.  Then  I  kindled  the  fire  on  the  top 
of  the  stove  and  gradually  burned  up  a  portion  of  the 
house.  Like  Sherman  and  Napoleon,  I  lived  on  the 
country  invaded.  The  firelight  cast  its  rudd3^  glow  on 
the  surrounding  domestic  desolation  and  the  red  dead 
cow,  which,  being  frozen  hard  as  a  rock,  served  for  a 
seat.  I  waited  for  the  morn;  but  the  morn  would  not 
come.  I  saw  from  the  sasliless  windows  the  prelimi- 
nary streaks  of  dawn  ever  so  faintly  lighting  up  the 
eastern  liorizon  full  forty  times,  and  found  they  were 
onl3'  in  my  imagination,  so  covetous  for  the  coming- 
day.  When  the  sun  did  rise  he  came  up  in  tlie  oppo- 
site direction. 

Impatient  of  waiting  longer,  and  converting  myself 
to  the  false  belief  that  the  light  was  realh^  coming  in 
what  turned  out  to  be  the  west,  I  did  battle  in  the 
dark  with  the  last  four  miles  of  the  journey.  All  went 
well  until  I  reached  a  certain  point  in  the  road,  which 
was  now  well  defined  thi'ough  the  trees.  There  every 
time  I  brought  up  in  a  clump  of  bushes  and  lost  the 
track.  Back,  time  after  time,  I  went,  seeking  with 
careful  calculation  to  make  a  fresh  and  truer  start, 
only  to  bring  up  again  in  brambles  and  briers.  When 
the  light  did  come,  I  had,  for  tAvo  hundred  yards,  in 
this  going  and   coming,  beaten   a   path  in  the  snow 


230 

which  looked  as  if  travelled  over  for  a  week.  Dajii^srht 
showed  what  a  ridiculously  trilling-  turn  had  caused 
me  thus  to  miss  the  route.  The  moral  of  Avhich  is  that 
man's  welfare  is  often  wrecked  on  some  trifling  error. 
A  failure  to  say,  "  Good  morning"  to  an  acquaintance, 
a  long',  gloomy  countenance  or  putting  one's  knife  in 
the  mouth,  or  guzzling  down  soup  or  coffee  with  undue 
noise,  has  repelled  one  man  from  another,  and  such  re- 
pulsion has  sent  our  fortunes  on  the  wrong  track  alto- 
gether. I  was  welconu^d  at  the  Strawberry  House  h}' 
six  hounds,  wiio,  in  the  still  faint  light,  jnade  at  me  as 
they  would  at  another  heast,  and  the  first  few  mo- 
ments of  my  arrival  on  this  outpost  of  civilization  was 
occupied  in  energetic  attempts  to  keep  Avhat  was  left 
of  me  from  being  eaten  by  the  dogs.  Indeed,  the  way 
of  the  transgressor  is  hard.  I  had  never  injured  these 
dogs.  However,  the  hospitahty  I  experienced  at  Pair 
mer's  stood  out  in  bold  relief  against  the  churlishness 
of  their  brute  creation. 


237 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

ON   THE   ROSTRUM. 

On  reaching  Sonora,  Tuolumne  County,  with  the 
frozen  toes  alhided  to  in  the  great  shde  down  the 
mountain,  I  went  to  work  and  dug  post-holes  for  a 
living.  Inspired  by  the  posts  or  the  holes,  I  wrote 
what  I  called  a  lecture.  This  I  learned  by  heart. 
Next  I  practised  its  delivery  in  the  woods,  behind 
barns,  and  sometimes  at  early  morn  in  the  empty 
Court-house— for  the  Temple  of  Justice  in  Sonora  stood 
open  night  and  day,  and  he  that  would  might  enter 
and  sleep  on  the  benches,  or  even  in  the  bar  itself,  as 
many  did  in  those  days.  Many  weeks  I  drilled  and 
disciplined  this  lecture,  addressing  it  to  rocks,  trees, 
barns,  and  sometimes  to  unseen  auditors  wandering 
about,  whose  sudden  appearance  would  cover  me  with 
confusion  and  send  me  blushing  home.  But  I  dreaded 
bringing  it  to  an  engagement  with  the  enemy— the 
audience.  The  glories  and  triumphs  of  oratory  I 
eagerly  coveted,  but  the  preliminary  labor,  the  pangs 
and  the  terrible  chances  of  speaking  in  public  I  dreaded 
and  avoided  as  long  as  possible.  But  Destiny,  despite 
all  our  backAvardness,  steadily  pushes  us  on  to  the 
most  painful  experiences.  I  required  yet  feared  the 
living  audience.  Rocks,  trees,  and  barn  doors  will  not 
do  for  a  speaker  the  specific  work  of  a  few  listening 
human  beings.     Listening  ears  sooner  or  later  teach  a 


238 

man  who  would  speak  to  iiiiiltiliuk's  to  modulate  his 
voice  or  increase  it  to  a  volume,  or  spend  more  time 
and  streng-th  in  accentuating-  each  syllable;  and  above 
all,  to  take  things  coolly  and  not  get  hurried.  At 
last  I  concluded  to  risk  myself  on  an  exi^erimental 
audience.  I  borrowed  one  for  the  occasion.  Going 
into  the  main  street  of  Sonora  one  evening-,  I  collected 
half  a  dozen  appreciative  souls  and  said, '' Follow  me 
to  the  Court-house;  I  would  have  a  few  words  with 
you.'"  There  was  a  County  Clerk,  his  deputy,  a  popu- 
lar physician  and  saloon-keeper,  and  an  enterprising- 
carpenter.  They  followed  me  wonderingly.  Arrived 
at  the  Court-house  I  seated  them,  marched  myself  to 
the  Judg-e's  bench,  stuck  two  candles  in  two  bottles, 
lit  them,  and  then  informed  the  crowd  that  I  had 
brought  them  hither  to  serve  as  an  experimental  au- 
dience to  a  lecture  I  proposed  delivering.  After  which 
I  plunged  into  the  subject,  and  found  that  portion  of 
the  brain  which  Avith  a  speaker  always  acts  inde- 
pendent of  the  rest  wondering  that  I  should  be  really 
talking  to  live  auditors.  There  is  a  section  of  a  man's 
faculties,  during  the  operation  of  speaking  in  public, 
which  will  ahvays  go  wandering  around  on  its  own 
hook,  picking  up  all  manner  of  unpleasant  thoughts 
and  impressions.  Apparently  it  is  ever  on  the  watch 
to  find  something  which  shall  annoy  the  other  half. 
It  seems  to  me  that  no  one  can  become  a  very  success- 
ful speaker  or  actor  until  this  idle,  vagrant  pai-t  of  the 
mind  is  put  dowm  altogether,  total  forgetfulness  of  all 
else  save  the  work  in  hand  be  established,  and  self- 
consciousness  abolished.  However,  I  spoke  half  the 
piece  to  m^^  borrow^ed  audience,  and  then,  feeling  that 
I  could  really  stand  fire,  told  them  they  could  go  home. 


230 

But  Dr. ,  constituting-  himself  spokesman,  rose  and 

declared  that  having*  served  as  hearers  for  half  the 
lecture  they  thouglit  they  were  entitled  to  the  other 
half.  Being'  thus  encored,  I  g*ave  them  the  other  half. 
A  great  apprehension  was  now  taken  from  my  mind. 
I  could  speak  to  a  crowd  without  forg-etting  my  lines, 
and  deemed  mj^self  already  a  lecturer  if  not  an  orator. 
I  did  not  then  realize  ho\v  vast  is  the  difference  be- 
tween mere  speaking'  and  the  properly  delivering'  of 
words  and  sentences  to  a  multitude,  be  it  larg:e  or 
small;  how  unfit  are  the  tone,  pitch,  and  manner  of 
ordinary  converse  to  public  speaking-;  how  a  brake 
must  be  put  on  every  Avord  and  S3'llable,  to  slow  down 
its  accentuation  and  make  it  audible  in  a  hall;  how 
g-reat  the  necessity  for  deliberation  in  delivery;  how 
the  force  and  meaning-  of  entire  sentences  may  be  lost 
by  a  gabbling,  imperfect,  and  too  rapid  enunciation; 
how  the  trained  speaker  keeps  perfect  control  of  him- 
self, not  only  as  to  his  delivery,  but  the  mood  under- 
neath it;  wliich  should  pi-oinpt  how  much  depends  on 
the  establishment  of  a  certain  chain  of  sympathy 
betwixt  speaker  and  audience,  and  how  much  the  es- 
tablishment of  such  chain  depends  on  the  speaker's 
versatilit3^  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  character, 
intellig-ence,  moods,  and  requirements  of  different  audi- 
ences. I  state  this,  having-  since  m}'  debut  in  the 
Sonora  Court-house  learned  these  things,  and  learned 
also  that  Nature  has  not  given  me  the  power  to  sur- 
mount all  these  dilFicidties.  I  am  not  a  good  speaker, 
as  man>'  doubtless  discovered  before  I  did.  However, 
my  friends  whom  I  consulted  said  by  all  means  give 
the  lecture  in  public,  knowing,  of  course,  that  I  wanted 
them  to  encourage  me,  and  feeling  this  to  be  the  best 


240 

way  of  g-etting-  rid  of  me.  So  I  had  posters  printed 
and  commenced  public  life  on  a  small  field.  I  hired  a 
hall;  admittance  twenty-five  cents.  I  felt  guilty  as  I 
read  this  on  the  bills.  I  read  one  alone  furtivel\'  by 
moonli<:i-ht,  because  after  they  were  posted  and  the 
plunij;e  taken  I  was  ashamed  to  appear  b^'  daylii;ht  on 
the  streets.  It  seemed  so  presumptuous  to  ask  iv- 
spectable,  God-feariui^-  citizens  of  that  town  to  sit  and 
hear  vie.  This  was  a  result  of  the  regular  oscillations 
of  my  mental  and  temperamental  seesaw. 

I  was  always  too  far  above  the  proper  scale  of  self- 
esteem  one  day  and  too  far  below  it  the  next.  Tlie 
real  debut  was  not  so  easy  as  the  preliminary,  hoi-- 
rowed,  bogus  one.  There  were  the  hard,  stern,  prac- 
tical people  present,  who  counted  on  receiving  their 
regular  "two  bits"  worth  of  genuine, solid  fact, knowl- 
edge and  profitable  information,  who  discounted  all 
nonsense,  didn't  approve  of  it  and  didn't  understand  it. 
I  felt  their  cold  and  withering  influence  as  soon  as  I 
mounted  the  platform.  Not  man^^  of  such  hearers 
were  present,  but  that  was  enough  to  poison.  I  saw 
tlieir  judgment  of  my  ellort  in  theii'  faces.  I  weakly 
allowed  tliose  faces,  and  the  opinions  I  deemed  shad- 
owed forth  on  them,  to  paral^-ze,  ps^'chologize  and 
conquer  me.  I  allow^ed  my  eyes,  numberless  times, 
to  wander  and  meet  their  stony,  cynical  gaze,  and, 
at  each  time,  the  basilisk  orbs  withc^red  up  my 
self-assertion  and  self-esteem.  Becoming  more  and 
more  demoralized,  I  sometimes  cow^ardly  omitted  or 
forgot  wiiat  I  deemed  my  boldest  matter  and  best 
hits.  HoAvever,  the  large  majority  of  the  audience 
being  kindly  disposed  toward  me,  heard,  applauded 
and  pronounced  the  lecture  a  "success.''     Some  ven- 


241 

tiired,\vhen  it  was  over,  to  advise  me  that  the  subject- 
matter  was  much  better  tliau  tlie  manner  of  its  de- 
hvery.  Of  that  tliere  was  not  the  least  doubt.  In 
speakin;^-,  I  liad  concentrated  matter  enough  for  two 
liours'  proper  delivery-  into  one,  and  a  part  of  <the  men- 
tal strain  and  anxiety  durhig  the  lecture  Avas  to  race 
my  words  so  as  to  finish  within  the  limits  of  an  hour  on 
time.  I  feared  wearying-  the  audience,  and  so  took 
one  of  the  best  methods  of  doing  so.  The  next  day 
self-esteem,  going- up  to  fevei'-heat,  and  my  compara- 
tive failure  not  being  so  bad  as  the  one  I  had  antici- 
pated when  my  estimates  of  myself  were  at  zero,  I 
determine  on  pressing  my  newly-found  vocation  and 
"starring''  Tuolumne  Count3^  Carried  by  this  tran- 
sient gleam  of  self-conceit  beyond  the  bounds  of  good 
judgment,  and  overwhelmed  with  another  torrent  of 
composition,  I  wrote  still  another  lecture,  and  adver- 
tised that.  The  curiosity,  complaisance,  and  good- 
nature of  my  friends  I  mistook  for  admiration.  In- 
deed, during  the  fever-,  I  planned  a  course,  or  rather  a 
constant  succession  of  lectures  which  might,  if  un- 
checked, have  extended  to  the  present  time.  But,  on 
the  second  attempt,  I  talked  largely  to  empty  benches. 
A  character  of  audience  I  have  since  become  accus- 
tomed to,  and  with  whom  I  am  on  terms  of  that  friend- 
ship and  sympathy  only  begotten  of  long  acquaintance. 
The  benches  wei-e  relieved  here  and  there  by  a  dis- 
couraged-looking liearer  who  had  come  in  on  a  free 
ticket,  and  who,  I  felt,  wanted  to  get  out  again  as 
quickly  as  possible.  Then,  I  knew  that  my  friends  did 
not  care  to  hear  me  any  more.  This  was  bitter,  but 
necessary  and  useful.  People  will  go  often  to  church 
and  hear  dull  sermons  because  of  custom,  of  conven- 


243 

tionality,  and  of  r('li.i;ious  faith  and  trainincr.  Tlu\y 
will  attend  political  nieeting-s  during-  an  exciting  cam- 
paig-n  and  hear  equally  dull  political  speeches  because 
of  patriotic  or  partisan  sympathy  or  fealty.  They 
will  g-o  also  to  hear  noted  people  because  of  curiosity, 
but  they  will  not  hear  more  thart  once  a  mere  man 
unbolstered  hy  any  of  these  outside  influences.  I  next 
gave  the  lecture  at  Columbia.  Columbia,  though  but 
four  miles  distant,  was  then  the  rival  of  Sonora  as  the 
metropolis  of  Tuolumne  County,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  secure  a  Columbian  indorsement  before  attempting 
to  star  it  through  the  provincial  cities  of  Jimtown, 
Chinese  Camp,  Don  Pedro's,  and  Pine  Log.  I  billed 
Columbia,  hired  the  theatre  for  two  dollars  and  a  half, 
and,  after  my  eifort,  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing 
from  a  friend  that  the  appreciative  and  critical  mag- 
nates of  the  town  had  concluded  to  vote  me  a  "suc- 
cess." Then  I  spoke  at  Jamestown,  Coulterville,  Mari- 
posa, Snelling's  and  other  places,  with  ver^^  moderate 
success.  Perhaps  I  might  have  arisen  to  greater  dis- 
tinction or  notoriety  than  that  realized  on  the  Tuo- 
lumne field  had  I  better  known  that  talent  of  any  sort 
must  be  handled  by  its  possessor  with  a  certain  dig- 
nity to  insure  respect.  Now,  I  travelled  from  town  to 
town  on  foot.  I  was  met,  dusty  and  perspiring,  tramp- 
ing on  the  road,  by  people  who  knew  me  as  the  newly- 
arisen  local  lecturer.  I  should  have  travelled  in  a 
carriage.  I  posted  my  own  bills.  I  should  have  em- 
ployed the  local  bill-sticker.  I  lectured  for  ten  cents 
per  head,  when  I  should  have  charged  fifty.  Some- 
times I  dispensed  with  an  admittance  fee  altogether 
and  took  up  contributions.  In  Coulterville,  the  trouser- 
buttons  of  Coultervillians  came  back  in  the  hat,  mixed 


243 

with  dimes.  Lookiiii:;'  back  now  on  that  exi^eriencc,  I 
can  sincerely  say  to  such  as  nia}^  follow  me  in  any 
modification  of  such  a  career,  "Never  hold  yourself 
cheap."  If  3^ou  put  a  good  picture  in  a  i)oor  frame,  it 
is  only  the  few  who  will  recog-nize  its  merit.  Don't 
let  your  lig'ht  shine  in  a  battered,  g-reas-y-  lamp.  It's 
all  wrong-.  We  all  know  the  dread  that  g-euius  in- 
spires when  clad  in  a  seedy  coat.  Lecturing*  frequently 
tries  a  man's  soul ;  especially  when  the  lecturer's  career 
is  not  a  very  successfid  one.  If  his  path  be  strewn 
with  roses  and  success,  there  ma\^  not  be  much  of  a 
story  to  tell.  But  it  is  dilferent  when  his  path  is 
strewn  with  thorns  and  he  steps  on  them.  It  is  sad 
to  hire  a  hall  in  a  strang-e  villag-e  and  wait  for  an  au- 
dience wliich  never  comes.  It  is  ominous  to  hear  your 
landlord,  just  before  supper,  remark,  "  Our  people  don't 
g'o  much  on  lecters.  But  they'll  pile  into  a  circus  or 
menagrrie  or  anything-  else  that  isn't  improvin'.'^ 
Tliey  say  this  all  over  the  land.  It  is  sadder  when 
you  offer  liim  a  handful  of  your  free  tickets  for  himself 
and  family  to  hear  him,  "Guess  the  folks  hain't  g-ot 
time  to  g-o  to-night.  There  is  a  ball  over  to  Pappoose- 
ville,  and  everybody's  g-oin'."  I  never  did  bill  myself 
yet  in  a  villag-e  for  a  lecture,  but  that  I  happened  to 
pitch  on  the  night  of  all  nig-hts  when  some  g-reat  local 
event  was  to  take  place.  Or  else  it  rained.  It  is  sad 
to  speak  to  thirty-two  people  in  a  hall  larg-e  enoug-h  to 
hold  a  thousand  and  tr^^  to  address  those  thirty-two 
people  scattered  about  at  the  thirty-two  points  of  the 
mariner's  compass.  Once  in  New  York  I  spoke  to  a 
fair  audience  in  a  hall  on  the  g-round  floor.  Thing-s 
went  on  beautifully  till  9  o'clock,  when  a  big-  brass 
band  struck  up  in  the  big-g-er  hall  over  my  head  and 


244 

some  fifty  couples  commenced  Avaltziii^.  It  was  an 
earthquake  reversed.  It  ruined  me  for  tlie  ni^ht. 
None  can  realize  until  the^^  enter  the  lecture  field  what 
trivial  occurrences  may  transpire  to  upset  the  unfoi'- 
tunate  on  the  platform  and  divert  and  distract  the  at- 
tention of  an  audience.  On  one  occasion  a  cat  g-ot  into 
a  church  where  I  was  speakini:;-,  and  trotted  np  and 
down  a  course  she  had  laid  out  for  herself  before  the 
pulpit.  She  did  this  with  an  erect  tail,  and  at  times 
made  short  remarks.  It  is  singular  that  a  single  cat 
acting  in  this  manner  is  nu)i'e  effective  in  interesting" 
and  amusing-  an  "intelligent  audience"  than  any 
speaker.  Under  such  conditions  Cicero  himself  would 
have  to  knock  under  to  the  cat.  He  might  go  on 
talking,  hut  the  cat  would  capture  the  house.  And 
then  the  awful  sensation  of  being  obliged  to  keep  on 
as  though  nothing  had  disturbed  you;  to  pretend  you 
don't  see  such  a  cat;  that  you  are  not  thinking  of  it; 
and  knowing  all  the  while  that  your  audience  are  get- 
ting their  money's  worth  out  of  the  cat  and  not  out  of 
you!  On  another  fearful  occasion  1  was  speaking  at 
Bridgehamptom,  Long  Island,  on  the  subject  of  tem- 
perance. I  lectured  on  temperance  occasionally,  though 
I  never  professed  teetotalism — for  an^^  length  of  time. 
One  can  lecture  on  temperance  just  as  well  without 
being  a  total  abstainer — and  perhaps  better.  Now,  I 
was  born  and  they  attempted  to  bring  me  up  properly 
near  Bridgehampton.  Every  one  knew  me  and  my 
ancestors,  immediate  and  remote.  I  had  not  spoken 
over  ten  minutes  Avhen  a  man  well-known  in  the  neigh- 
borhood and  much  moved  by  the  whiskey  he  had  been 
driidving  all  day,  arose  and  propounded  some  not  ver}^ 
intelligible  queries.    I  answered  him  as  well  as  I  could. 


245 

Then  he  put  more.  Nay,  he  took  possession  of  the 
meeting-.  No  one  ventured  to  silence  him.  The3^  are 
a  ver^^  quiet,  orderl^^  people  in  Bridgehampton.  Such 
an  interruption  of  a  meeting-  had  never  before  been 
heard  of  there,  and  the  people  seemed  totalh^  unable 
to  cope  with  the  emerg-ency.  The  wretch  delivered 
himself  of  a  great  variety  of  remarks,  but  ever  and 
anon  recurred  to  the  assertion  that  "he'd  vouch  for 
my  character, 'because  he  not  only  knew  nu^  but  my 
parents  before  me."  "  He  was  present,"  he  said,  "at 
their  wedding,  which  he  remembered  well  from  the 
fact  of  wine  being  served  there,  as  well  as  rum,  gin, 
and  brandy."  That  for  me  was  a  laborious  evening. 
Sometimes  I  spoke,  and  then  the  inebriate  avouUI  get 
the  floor  and  keep  it.  He  rambled  about  the  aisles, 
allayed  a  cutaneous  disturbance  in  his  back  by  rub- 
bing himself  against  one  of  the  fluted  pillars,  and, 
when  I  had  at  last  finished,  made  his  way  up  to  the 
choir  and,  intei-polating  himself  between  two  damsels, 
sang  everything-  and  everybody  out  of  tune  from  a 
temperance  hymn-book. 


246 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

RUNNING   FOR   OFFICE. 

This  is  the  confession  of  a  political  villain;  not, how- 
ever, a  perjured  political  villain,  I  never  swore  to  run 
for  office  for  my  country's  good.  I  did  run  once  for  an 
ofTlce  for  my  own  good.  I  was  unsuccessful.  Virtue 
has  its  own  reward;  so  has  vice.  The  Avicked  do  not 
always  flourish  like  green  ha^^  trees.  Indeed,  judging 
from  a  home  experience,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say 
that  they  flourish  at  all.  The  fall  political  campaign 
of  1 86G-67  came  on  while  I  was  canwing  my  comic  lec- 
ture ahout  the  camj^s  of  Tuolumne,  Stanislaus,  and 
Mariposa.  A  thought  one  day  took  possession  of  me, 
'•  Wliy  not  run  for  the  Legislature  ?  "  I  helonged  to  a 
l)()]itical  party.  My  frozen  toes  trouhled  me  a  good 
deal  and  the  lecture  did  not  x^ay  much  over  expenses. 
I  consulted  with  one  of  the  pillars  of  our  party.  He 
helonged  in  Oak  Flat.  I  took  the  pillar  behind  Dan 
Munn's  store  on  Rattlesnake  Creek  and  avowed  my 
intention.  The  pillar  took  a  big  chew  of  tobacco, 
stared,  grinned,  and  said:  "WhA^not?"  I  consulted 
with  another  pillar  behind  Bob  Love's  store  in  Monte- 
zuma. He  was  throwing  dirt  from  a  prospect-hole 
with  a  long-handled  shovel.  He  leaned  on  the  shovel, 
blew  his  nose  au  natural  without  artificial  aid,  grinned, 
and  after  some  deliberation  said:  "Why  not?"  I 
found  another  pillar  of  our  party  slumming  out  a  res- 


247 

ervoir  near  Jamestown.  He  was  enveloped  in  yellow 
mud  to  his  waist,  and  smaller  bodies  of  mud  plastered 
liini  upward.  A  short  pipe  was  in  his  mouth  and  a 
slumg-ullion  shovel  in  his  hand.  He  said:  "Go  in  for 
it  and  win." 

With  less  assurance  and  more  fear  and  trembling-  I 
consulted  with  other  and  more  influential  party  pillars 
in  Sonora,  the  county_town.     Some  hesitated;   some 
were  dig-nified;  some  cheered  me  on;  some  said,  "Why 
not?''     I  made   the  same  remark   to  myself,  and  re- 
plied, ''  Why  not  ?  "     The  Assembly  was  a  good  g-ate 
for  entering-  the  political  field.     My  ideas  of  its  duties 
were  va^e.     Of  my  own  qualifications  for  the  post  I 
dared  not  think.     They  may  have  been  about  equal  to 
those  with  which  I  entered  th«  Heunfs  galley  as  a 
sea  cook.     But  what  matter?    Other  men  no  better 
qualified  tlian  I  had  g'one  to  Sacramento,  received  their 
$10  per  diem  and  came  back  alive.     1  could  do  that. 
They  seemed  to  stand  as  well  as  ever  in  the  estima- 
tion of  their  constituents.     Then  "Why  not?"     The 
die  was  cast.    I  announced  myself  in  the  county  paper 
as  a  candidate  for  the  State  Assembly.     The  County 
Convention  assembled  at  Sonora.     It  was  a  body  dis- 
ting-uished  for  wisdom  and  jurisprudence.    Judg"e  Fer- 
ral  of  our  city  was  there.      He  was  then  a  brig-ht- 
eyed,  active,  curly-haired  youth,  and  liad  already  g-iven 
mucli  promise  of  his  successful  career.    Judg-e  Leander 
Quint  was  there.     H.  P.  Barber  presided.     Tuolumne 
County  had  not  then  been  shorn  of  its  brightest  lig-hts 
by  the  necessities  of  the  rest  of  the  State  and  the 
woi'ltl.     Somebody  nominated  me.     I  arose  and   i)aid 
somebody  else  five  dollars.     This  was  the  fii\st  price  of 
ambition.   Then  I  found  myself  making-  my  nominatin<^ 


248 

speech.  It  was  a  yvry  successful  speech.  I  left  out 
politics  altog'ether,  made  n.  pledgvs,  discussed  no 
principles  and  talked  no  sense.  At  first  the  audi- 
ence stared.  Then  thej'  laughed  immoderately'.  So 
did  I.  Then  the^-  nominated  me  by  acclamation.  It 
was  one  of  the  proudest  moments  of  my  life,  although 
I  did  not  know  it  at  the  time.  Taken  for  all  in  all, 
it  was  no  wonder  they  laughed.  I  was  obliged  to 
laugh  myself  at  the  whole  affair  behind  the  Court- 
house when  the  Convention  adjourned.  And  "Why 
not?'' 

It  was  the  laugh  of  a  fiend!  I  wanted  the  position 
for  the  per  diem.  I  was  buried  in  turpitude.  My 
colleagues  were  all  running  on  i:)rinciple  to  save  the 
country.  It  is  singular  that  the  motive  of  such  a 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  as  I  was  at  that  time  was  not 
detected.  The  great  and  good  men,  secure  in  their 
own  rectitude  and  pui'ily  of  pu]-])ose,  by  whom  I  was 
surrounded,  never  once  guessed  at  the  pres(^nce  of  the 
snake  in  their  grass.  Looking  back  at  this  occun-ence 
after  the  lapse  of  nearly  twenty-five  yeais,  I  am  uu)re 
and  more  astonished  that  the  jiarty  sliould  have  risked 
taking  such  a  load  as  myself  on  its  shoulders.  I  had 
no  position,  no  standing,  next  to  no  reputation,  no 
l)i'()pei-ty,  no  good  clothes,  no  Avhole  shoes,  no  fixed 
habitation  and  three  sore  toes.  I  had  not  nor  did  not 
realize  the  responsibilities  of  a  citizen.  I  had  no 
family  aiid  could  not  realize  tlie  duties  and  I'esponsi- 
bilities  of  those  wlio  wei*e  rearing  young  citizens  for 
the  great  Republic.  Should  such  a  man  be  sent  to 
the  State  Legislature?  Of  course  not.  Are  such 
men  ever  sent.?  Of  course  not.  I  do  not  think  now 
that  at   tlic   period  spoken  of  I   was  even   incori'upt- 


249 

ibie.  Should  a  person  who  seldom  saAV  over  ten  dol- 
lars in  his  possession  at  any  one  time  be  sent  where 
he  mig-ht  be  "  appi-oached  "  by  desii^-ning-  men  ?  Of 
course  not.  Was  sue li  an  one  ever  sent?  Never!  The 
commonwealth  of  California  ran  a  fearful  risk  in  my 
nomination. 

Few,  probably  none,  suspected  the  mental  misery  I 
endured  during-  this  campaig-n.  Because  I  knew  and 
felt  Tr.y  turpitude.  I  knew  my  unfitness  for  the  posi- 
tion to  which  I  aspired.  I  knew  where  la^^  tJie  snake 
in  the  g-rass.  Could  I  meet  daih'  a  trusting,  credulous 
constituency,  who  believed  that  my  mind  was  full  of 
projects  for  the  relief  of  the  State  and  nation,  without 
remorse  ?  Of  course  not.  I  liad  remorse — bad,  but  I 
dared  not  back  out  and  off  tlie  track.  So  I  kept  on, 
and  the  vultures  gnawed  my  vitals.  Those  who  think 
the  wicked  have  such  a  g-ood  time  are  sadly  mistaken. 
Oui*  party  was  firmly  grounded  on  one  g-rand  belu'r. 
It  was  that  nothing  the  other  part3^  could  do  was  right, 
and  nothing-  that  we  did  was  wrong-.  This  at  that 
lime  I  (lid  not  believe.  But  I  pretended  to.  Oi'  i-atlier 
I  stifled  all  tlioug-ht  on  the  subject.  This  was  the  first 
g-reat  sin.     Unlike  my  coUej»g-u(\s,  I  was  untrue  to  my 

own  convictions,     The\' -but  liow  I  wished  for  their 

faith.  It  could  move  mountains  of  doubt.  Mine 
couldn't.  How  I  hated  m^^  conscience.  It  tormented 
me  worse  than  a  chronic  colic.  There  I  was  standing* 
shouldei'  to  shoulder  with  patriots — battling-  bravely 
for  a  cause,  a  pi-inciple,  while  I — I  cared  for  naug-ht 
save  a  seat  in  tlie  Assembly  at  $10  a  day. 

It  was  a  stirring-  campaig-n,  that  of  ISGfi,  in  and  about 
Tuolumne  County.  The  antagonism  was  of  the  bitter- 
est character.     Political  opponents  reviled  each  other 


250 

in  print  and  sometimes  peppered  each  other  with  pis- 
tols. BulU'ts  Hew  ahout  ni.i;h1  mid  day.  It  was  dan- 
.jj;-er()iis  in  Sonoi"i  to  sleep  in  a  elapboarded  liouse  in 
the  averai;-e  line  of  aim.  The  i)ax)ers  left  nothinii;-  un- 
said whicli  could  taunt  and  iri-itate.  Editors  went 
about  the  streets  weighed  down  hy  masked  batteries. 
It  was  calculated  that  500  pounds  of  ii'on  were  daih^ 
packed  about  the  streets  in  tlie  shape  of  derringers, 
knives,  and  revolvers.  The  champions  of  the  opposing- 
parties  never  met  on  the  highway  but  that  people 
peered  and  squinted  from  door  and  windoAV  for  the 
bombardment  to  conunence.  Knives  were  bathed  in 
g'ore.  '  Barroom  floors  showed  bloody  stains.  Men 
died  with  their  boots  oi>.  Loaded  shotg-uns  lay  in  am- 
bush behmd  front  and  back  doors.  The  atmosphere 
smelt  of  blood  and  possible  killing.  Saloon  plate-glass 
mirrors  showed  the  track  of  pistol  bullets.  Mass 
meetings  were  assemblages  of  men  from  town,  and 
country,  secretly  armed.  People  spent  most  of  their 
time  hating  each  oth(n'.  Ministers  went  behind  the 
orthodox  j'eturns  ajid  pn^iched  sectional  and  partisan 
politics.  Tlie  morc^  vital  ti^nets  of  religion  were  sus- 
pended for  the  time  being  Avith  the  writ  of  habeas 
corpus.  I  canvassed  the  county  with  my  comic  lec- 
ture. It  took.  It  was  popular  Avith  both  parties.  It 
was  a  pleasant  relief  from  the  heavier  logic  and  argu- 
ment used  by  heavier  and  more  solid  speakers.  It 
was  like  the  farce  after  the  tragedy.  It  sent  assem- 
blies and  mass  meetings  home  in  good  humor.  No- 
body asked  if  such  a  candidate  was  fit  to  make  laws. 
But  Ihei'e  Tuolumne  shoAved  wisdom. 

They  didn't  want  any  more  laws  made.     Everybody 
who  had  been  sent  to  th(^  Legislature  since  California 


251 

was  created  a  State  had  been  busy  putting"  more  laws 
on  the  statute  books.  There  was  an  overplus.  People 
couldn't  keep  count  of  the  laws  already  made.  Tuo- 
lumne then  showed  wisdom  in  its  endeavor  to  send 
out'  man  to  the  Leg-islature  of  1860-6T  who,  not  being- 
able  to  draw  up  a  l)ill,  could  not  have  added  a  single 
new  law  to  the  mass  already  made.  I  g*ave  m^^  part\' 
a  great  deal  of  trouble.  Once  in  a  private  conversa- 
tion with  one  I  deemed  a  friend,  although  he  belonged 
to  the  opposition,  I  committed  myself  in  favor  of 
greenbacks  as  a  legal  tender.  Our  party  did  not  ap- 
prove of  g-reenbacks.  Ours  was  the  old-fashioned  hard- 
mone^'  dollar  of  our  dad's  pai-ty.  I  was  hardly  aware 
of  this,  through  a  lamentable  ignorance  of  what  we 
really  did  advocate.  The  County  Central  Committee, 
hearing  of  my  treason,  sent  after  me  a  messenger 
with  a  missive  calling  on  me  to  explain.  I  saw  then 
the  horrible  blunder  I  had  made,  and  wished  the  earth 
would  open  and  swallow  me.  Then  I  concluded  to  re- 
sig'n  or  to  run  away.  But  a  man  bolstered  me  up  and 
advised  me  to  deny  the  report,  which  I  did  in  an  open 
nrass  meeting.  The  use  of  paper  then  would  have 
doubled  the  amount  of  money  in  circulation,  and  that 
seemed  to  me  just  what  the  people  needed.  Ever}" 
mother's  son  of  them  on  being  questioned  said  the^^ 
wanted  more  money,  and  here  seemed  a  means  of  re- 
lieving that  want.  But  the  part}'  refused  to  put  in  a 
plank  which  might  have  doubled  the  dollars  in  every- 
body's pockets. 

Feeling  that  I  had  not  done  justice  to  the  part}'  in 
making  an  active  canvass  of  the  county,  principall}" 
becaus<'  I  had  no  money  to  make  a  canvass  with,  by 
treating  long  lines  of  ever-ready  patriots  at  every  bar 


252 

in  Tuolumne,  I  concluded  I  would  hold  a  series  of  pri- 
vate mass  meeting's  in  the  day  time  on  horseback.  I 
Avould  do  this  on  election  day.  I  would  g-allop  from 
poll  to  poll  and  make  a  speech  at  each  poll.  I  had  a 
route  laid  out  embracing-  half  the  county.  I  made  the 
initial  equestrian  speech  at  Jamestown.  Thence  I 
g-alloped  to  Shaw's  Flat.  Shaw's  Flat  upset  me.  The 
pillar  of  our  party  there,  at  whose  saloon  the  polls 
were  held,  came  to  his  door  while  I  was  speaking,  took 
one  look  at  me  and  walked  off  in  disgust.  I  saw  the 
disgust  on  his  face  an  inch  thick.  It  smote  me.  It 
threw  a  wet  blanket  over  all  this  newly-roused  entlm- 
siasm.  I  started  for  Columbia,  but  all  the  wa^^  that 
man's  face  peered  into  mine.  It  robbed  me  of  all 
courage  and  confidence.  I  liad  no  further  heart  to 
continue  the  work.  It  was  not  at  all  the  regular 
thing.  It  was  an  innovation  on  old  part^^  usages. 
The  country"  even  then  was  too  old  for  such  politico- 
equestrkin  heroics.  I  rode  back  to  Jamestown,  put 
the  horse  in  liis  stabh?,  and  hid  myself.  The  people 
did  not  agree  to  send  me  to  Sacramento.  Perhaps  it 
was  fortunate  for  them  they  did  not.  Probably  it  was 
for  me.  Wliatever  happens  to  a  man  in  this  life  is 
pi-obably  the  best  thing  for  him,  inasmuch  as  nothing 
else  can  happen  to  hnu.  I  had  the  profit  of  an  experi- 
ence in  making  a  semi-political  debut,  and  the  people 
profited  l)y  sending*  another  man. 

Could  the  past  but  be  recalled,  with  all  its  con- 
ditions^ contingencies,  and  accessories;  could  I  once 
more  renew  this  episode  with  the  advantage  of  years 
of  experience  and  accumulated  wisdom,  I  might  suc- 
ceed and  fill  tlie  post  of  legislator.  But  the  future 
is  apt  to  come  too  late.     To  be  sure  it  was  for  mc 


253 

a  period  of  folly  and  weakness.  My  soul  even  now 
squirms  with  shame  to  think  of  it.  "And  it  should," 
1  hear  my  fellow-human  judges  saying".  Of  course 
it  should.  Man's  first  duty  to  himself  is  to  hide  his 
follies  and  bear  himself  as  thoug'h  he  never  com- 
mitted any.  Only  I  can  afford  to  tell  what  a  wretch 
I  have  been.  Were  I  a  candidate  for  olRce  I  could 
not.  Some  day,  when  the  world  is  wiser,  Avill  men 
cease  strutting-  about  in  their  masks  of  propriety  and 
wisdom,  and  publish  their  own  past  errors  as  freely 
as  now  they  do  those  of  their  fellows?  Is  it  a  g'ood 
preliminary  previous  to  entrance  into  that  world 
where  "all  things  shall  be  revealed/' where  each  ac- 
tion lies  in  its  true  nature,  and  where  each  one  of  us 
must  "even  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults 
give  in  evidence."    "  Why  not  ?  " 


25-4 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AN   EARLY   CALIFORNIA   CANVASS. 

Previous  to  this  election  which  did  not  elect  me, 
Williams  and  I  canvassed  the  county  together.  He 
aspired  to  the  office  of  Sheriff.  We  mounted  our 
horses,  and  with  long-  linen  dusters  on  our  backs  and 
bottles  of  whiskey  in  our  pockets,  rode  first  to  Spring" 
Gulch,  consisting"  of  two  groceries,  six  saloons,  an 
empty  hotel,  twent^^  miners'  cabins,  a  seedy  school- 
house,  a  seedier  church,  the  hillsides  around  denuded 
of  earth,  torn  and  scarred  by  years  of  hydraulic  wasli- 
ing",  and  showing  great  patches  of  bare  yellow  ledge 
covered  with  heaps  of  boulders.  The  few  men  nu't 
were  m  coarse,  ragged,  g'ra^^  shirts  and  mud -stained 
duck  pants,  had  a  worn,  worked-out  look;  over  all 
sliining  the  hot  afternoon  sun,  the  heated  atmosphere 
quivering  and  rising,  behind  tlie  hill-bounded  horizon, 
a  snow-wliite  mass  of  cloud  which,  at  precisely  the 
same  hour  everj^  afternoon,  attains  the  same  altitude, 
then  gradually  sinks.  The  e^^e  gazes  steadily  upon  it; 
there  are  seen  great  hollows  and  depths  of  shining- 
whiteness.  It  is  the  vapor  coming  from  tlie  melting- 
snow  on  the  Sierra  peaks  eig-hty  miles  away.  The  few 
loungers  about  the  Washington  Saloon  see  William 
Saunders  and  m3\self  riding  down  the  hill.  Our  dusters 
and  clean  linen  proclaim  us  as  "  candidates."  Candi- 
dates means  drinks.  There  is  a  gradual  concentration 
of  unemployed  seediness  at  the  Washington.     We  dis- 


255 

mount;  soon  the  coveted  and  cheering-  bottle  is  placed 
on  the  bar;  a  line  of  tumblers  in  skirniishmg'  order 
form  behind  it;  every  one  within  sig-lit  and  hearmg- is 
called  up;  a  pause  of  glad  anticipation  ensues  while 
the  g'lasses  are  being-  fdled;  the  precision  of  bar-room 
etiquette  is  strictly  observed,  that  not  a  drop  be  swal- 
lowed until  all  are  ready;  then  the  dozen  tumblers  are 
simultaneously  raised;  the  standing-  toast  "Here's 
luck,"  and  the  reviving"  alcohol  fulfils  its  mission. 
This  is  electioneering. 

Sam  White  is  the  Bismarck  of  our  interests  in  Spring- 
Gulch.  He  is  the  standing  delegate  to  the  County 
Convention  from  this  precinct.  He  goes  b^-  virtue  of 
a  paying  claim,  a  capacity  for  venturing  among  the 
rocks  and  shoals  of  saloons,  gaming  tables  and  in- 
numerable calls  to  drink,  without  losing  his  head.  He 
can  drink  deeply,  quietly,  and  fearfully;  he  can  drink 
himself  into  noise  and  turbulence  and  still  keep  a  set 
of  sober  faculties  in  ieser\'e  underneath.  We  hold  a 
short  cabinet  meeting-  with  Sam  behind  the  bai-n.  He 
sees  clearly  the  political  complexion  of  Spring  Gulch. 
Bob  O'Leary  is  doubtful,  but  may  be  bought;  Jack 
Shear  and  Tom  Mead  must  be  braced  up  to  allegiance 
by  whiskey;  Miles  and  O'Gorman  are  mad  because  a 
favorite  of  theirs  could  not  get  the  nomination  for 
Supervisor  last  year,  and  won't  vote  anyhow;  Bob 
Jones  is  favorable  to  us,  but  wants  to  leave  before  the 
primary  meeting  comes  olf;  the  rest  are  sure  for  us 
or  sure  against  us. 

We  visit  the  Franklin  House  just  opposite.  The 
political  candidate's  money  must  not  all  be  spent  in 
one  house.  This  is  one  of  the  fundamental  principles 
in  electioneering.     Every  saloon  controls  a  few  votes, 


256 

or  ratlior  a  few  wliiskoy-soddcn  ori;-aiiizations,  who  arc 
voted  like  inacliiiies.  The  soU'inn  oi'deal  of  an  .Ameri- 
can treat  is  aij;aiii  witnessed.  Jim  Brown  becomes 
atFectionately  and  patriotically  drunk,  and  as  we  ridi^ 
away  loudly  proclaims  himselt*  a  "white  man  and  in 
favor  of  a  white  man's  govern  men  t." 

We  feel  that  Spring-  Gulch  is  secure.  We  carry  it 
in  our  pocket.  We  ride  a  couple  of  miles  over  the 
ridge  to  Six-Bit  Gulch.  Red  crags  tower  upwaid  hn- 
liundreds  of  feet;  a  rividet  flows  along,  and  on  a  little 
flat  under  a  spreading  live-oak  is  an  old  log  cabin.  In 
front  is  a  l)it  of  vegetable  garden  inclosed  by  old  sluice 
lumber.  High  up  in  the  branches  overhead  a  gauze- 
covered  meat-safe;  on  the  trunk  is  nailed  a  coff"ee-mill ; 
under  it  hangs  a  fiying-pan;  close  by  the  wash-tub 
and  wash-board  a  few  fowl  peck  about;  the  quail  in  a 
clump  of  chaparral  near  by  are  querously  twittering, 
scolding  and  fluttering,  and  making  the  preliminary^ 
ai-rangements  for  their  night's  rest. 

Sam  Lugar,  gray  and  worn,  resident  in  this  gulch 
for  the  last  sixteen  years,  sits  outside  the  door  smok- 
ing his  evening  pipe. 

A  hundred  yards  above  is  the  residence  of  the 
"Judge,"  another  hard-working,  whiske^^-drinking  lier- 
mit.  A  glance  within  shows  the  Judge  eating  liis 
evening  meal.  A  child  is  inlaying  about  on  the  mud 
floor,  whose  creamy  complexion  ;ind  bright  bead-like 
eyes  indicate  its  Indian  origin.  Hanging  above  the 
fire-place  are  a  gun,  an  Indian  bow,  a  quiver  full  of 
glass-tipped  arrows;  on  the  shelf  bits  of  gold-studded 
quartz,  a  bunch  of  crystals,  petrifactions,  and  curiously- 
shaped  stones  found  by  the  "  Judge  "  from  time  to  time 
in  his  diggings.    There  are  boxes  full  of  old  magazines 


257 

and  newspapers;  on  the  rude  Avindow-sill  a  coverless, 
well-worn  copy  of  Shakespeare.  The  Judg-e  is  tall, 
straig-ht,  and  sallow  in  complexion.  He  has  lived  on 
this  spot  since  1849.  Six-Bit  Gulch  was  ver^^  ricli. 
He  has  torn  up  virgiu  gold  in  the  g-rass  roots.  He 
lives  now  on  recollections  of  the  hush  times.  Present 
failures  and  long-  past* successes  form  the  staple  of  his 
conversation.  His  mining-  is  merely  secondary  to  an- 
other occupation,  the  gTeat  aspiration  of  his  life — to 
beat  a  poker  g-ame  over  in  Spring  Gulch.  He  has 
been  unsuccessfully  trying-  this  for  the  last  seven  years. 
A  bundk'  of  al)orig-inal  duskiness  enveloped  in  a  brig-ht 
calico  g-own,  hanging'  about  her  adipose  proportions, 
stirs  as  we  enter.  That  is  the  Judg-e's  wife^a  squaw. 
Her  family  down  to  the  third  g-eneration,  are  camped 
in  the  brush  hard  by.  They  visit  the  Judg-e  at  stated 
intervals,  and  at  such  times  the  family  expenses  are 
trebled.  The  gray  shirt  and  duck  pants  tied  at  the 
waist  with  a  string-  constitute  the  Judg-e's  only  dress- 
suit.  On  the  floor  near  him  is  a  shapeless,  wet  mass 
of  India  rubber  boots,  shirt  and  pants,  drenched  and 
splashed  with  yellow  mud.  This  man  was  once  a 
spruce  clerk  in  a  New  England  store.  At  seventeen, 
the  set  and  whiteness  of  liis  collars,  the  fit  of  his  boots, 
the  arrangement  of  liair  and  neck-tie  were  subjects  of 
long-  and  painful  consideration  before  the  mirror.  He 
had  his  chosen  one  among  the  village  girls;  he  saw 
her  regularly  home  from  the  Sunday-evening  prayer- 
meetings.  The  great  gold  fever  of  1848  seized  him. 
He  saw  a  vision:  A  few  months  picking  up  nuggets 
in  California;  a  triumphant  return  home;  a  wedding; 
a  stylish  mansion;  a  fast  horse;  a  front  pew;  termina- 
tion, a  marble  monument  in  the  Terry ville  cemetery : 


258 

"Beloved  and  respected  by  all  who  knew  him, he  sleeps 
in  hope  of  a  still  brig-hter  immortality." 

We  stop  at  the  "  Judg-e's  "  for  the  night.  Wife  and 
child  are  sent  off  to  the  Indian  camp  in  the  chaparral. 
Sam  Liigar  drops  in  after  supper.  The  Judge  is  an 
incessant  talker.  The  bottles  and  glasses  are  placed 
on  the  table.  The  Judge  becomes  fatherly  as  to  coun- 
sel and  admonition  against  excess  in  drink.  Also 
against  gambling.  He  has  peculiar  theological  views. 
Moses,  he  says,  was  a  keen  old  miner.  He  and  Aaron 
put  up  a  plan  to  gain  all  the  gold  in  the  Israelites' 
possession.  While  Moses  was  on  Mount  Sinai  receiv- 
ing the  stone  tables,  Aaron  was  counselling  the  mak- 
ing and  vA'orship  of  the  golden  calf.  By  such  means 
did  he  concentrate  in  a  lump  all  the  Jews'  jewelry. 
What  then?  Moses  comes  down,  sees  the  calf,  gets 
angry,  breaks  into  pieces,  burns  it  up.  But  what  be- 
comes of  the  gold  ?  Didn't  Moses  and  Aaron  sneak 
around  that  night  and  "  pan  it  out "  of  the  ashes  ? 

The  Judge  is  his  ow^n  theologian. 

We  visit  Price,  of  Hawkins'  Bar.  Price  is  now  the 
sole  constituency  of  Hawkins'.  He  ran  this  bar  in  its 
g'olden  infancy;  he  saw  it  in  its  youth;  he  is  steadfast 
to  it  in  its  decay.  Thirtj^-four  years  ago,  eight  hun- 
dred nien  lived  here;  the  Tuolumne  banks  were  lined 
with  them,  shaking  their  cradles.  From  the  top  of 
yonder  red  hill  the  combined  grating  of  the  pebbles 
shaken  in  hundreds  of  rocker-sieves  sounded  like  the 
crash  of  machinery  in  a  cotton  mill. 

Old  Hawkins  first  discovered  gold  here.  Price  tells 
of  the  pickle-jars  full  he  had  buried  under  the  floor  of 
his  cabin.  The  secret  could  not  be  kept.  The^^  came 
trooping  down  the  steep  Red  Mountain  trail,  blankets 


259 

and  tools  on  their  backs,  footsore,  weary,  thirsty,  hun- 
g-ry — but  hiing-rier  still  for  g-old.  They  put  up  tents 
and  l)rush  houses,  or  crept,  slept  and  cooked  under 
projecting"  rocks;  they  stood  all  day  in  ice-cold  water; 
thej-  overworked  bodies  hitherto  unused  to  manual 
labor;  they  blistered  delicate  hands;  they  lived  on 
bacon  and  heavy  bread  of  their  own  making;  they 
drank  raw  whiskey  by  the  quart;  they  died,  and  were 
buried  almost  where  they  died,  in  nameless  graves. 
Up  yonder,  but  a  few  yards  in  the  rear  of  Price's  cabm, 
IS  the  old  camp  grave3'ard.  The  fence  is  rottmg  away 
and  stands  at  various  angles.  The  inscriptions  on  the 
headboards  are  half  effaced  b^'  time  and  the  elements. 
Some  are  split  and  have  fallen  down.  Read  "  Jacob 
Peiser,  xt.  27."  He  died  close  by  in  the  gulch  hard 
by,  with  a  pistol -bullet  through  him.  A  dispute  over  a 
claim.  *'  Samuel  Purdy,  31."  Drowned  trying"  to  cross 
the  river  during-  a  freshet.  ''John  Wilkins,  xt.  35." 
Killed  by  a  cave  in  the  bank  claim  about  a  hundred 
yards  away.  *'  Sanuiel  Johnson,  xt.  25."  He  dove 
with  a  sand  bag  to  stop  a  great  leak  in  the  Ford 
Chann's  head  wall,  and  he  stopped  the  leak  in  part 
with  his  own  body,  for  the  stream  sucked  him  in  the 
crevice  and  he  never  came  up  alive.  "  John  Weddell, 
35."  Blown  up  by  the  premature  explosion  of  a  blast 
in  the  Split  Rock  quartz  claim.  *'Abi;am  Hewisou, 
45."  Delirium  tremens,  sta rk  mad  at  midnight,  jumped 
into  the  river  from  the  point  yonder,  Avhere  the  stream 
whirls  round  the  bend  with  tremendous  force  and  then 
rushes  down  toward  the  long  deep  canon  a  mile  away 
in  a  succession  of  great  white  crested  billows,  whose 
sad,  never-ceasing  murmur  seems  an  eternal  requiem 
for  those  lying  here. 


260 

Price  has  seen  all  this.  That  was  the  climax  of  his 
life.  Pi'ice's  heaven  is  not  in  the  future.  It  is  in  the 
past.  It  is  embraced  in  a  period  aoout  twenty-fne 
years  ag-o,  when  he  made  "  an  ounce  per  day."  Those, 
lie  remarks,  w^ere  times  worth  living-  for.  Eig-lit  hun- 
dred souls  then  at  Hawkins';  five  gambling  houses  in 
full  blast  every  night;  music,  dancing,  and  fandangos 
at  either  end  of  the  bar. 

The  river  roars  unvexed  toward  the  sea.  It  has 
burst  through  its  dams  and  choked  the  races  with 
sand.  The  scars  and  furrows  on  the  hill  sides  are  quite 
hidden  b}^  the  thickly  growing  vegetation;  young  oaks 
and  pines  are  coming  up  in  the  place  of  the  old.  Trail 
and  road  are  overgrown  with  brush.  Among"  the  rank 
weeds  we  stumble  on  traces  of  man's  former  presence 
— the  top  of  a  saloon  counter,  the  mahogany  leg  and 
faded  green  cushion  of  a  billiard  table,  rusty  tin  ware, 
broken  picks  and  shovels,  a  few  rude  stone  chimneys, 
about  whose  blackened  fire-places  years  ago  gathered 
the  hopeful,  sanguine  men  of  "'49.'^  It  is  so  still. 
The  declining  afternoon  sun  is  throwing  long  shadows 
from  the  mountains  on  the  other  bank.  Slowly  they 
creej)  up  and  shade  the  steeps  on  our  side.  Every 
moan  and  babble  of  the  Tuolumne  falls  distinctly  on 
the  ear. 

"Civilization"  here  put  in  a  transient  appearance. 
It  scarred  the  hill  sides  with  pits  and  furrows  dug  for 
gold.  It  cut  down  the  wide-spreading  symmetrical 
oaks.  It  forced  the  Tuolumne  through  race  and  flume 
from  its  channels.  It  built  gaudy  temples  dedicated 
to  the  worship  of  Bacchus,  resplendent  with  mirrors, 
pictures,  and  cut-glassware,  located  on  the  very  site 
where  a  few  months  previous  stood  the  Indian's  smok- 


261 

iiig"  wigwam.  It  brought  toiling  men,  hard-fisted, 
awkward,  ungainl\',  ciuinsy,  with  all  grace  and  supple- 
ness worked  out  of  them  and  strong  only  to  lift  and 
dig.  It  brought  all  numner  of  men,  educated  and  ig- 
norant, cultivated  and  coarse,  3^et  for  whom  Christian 
training.  Christian  Church,  Christian  Bible,  Christian 
spire  in  cit^^,  town,  and  village  pointing  heavenward, 
liad  failed  to  convince  that  gold  was  not  the  chief  aim 
and  end  of  all  human  effort.  By  day  there  was  labor 
drudging,  labor  spasmodic,  a  few  prizes,  many  blanks, 
some  hope,  much  more  discouragement.  By  night, 
revelry,  carousal,  gambling,  oaths,  recklessness,  pistol 
shots,  knife  thrusts,  bloodshed,  death.  Bird  and  beast 
fled  affrighted  to  lonelier  and  more  secure  retreats 
before  the  advent  of  the  raging,  cruel  animal  man. 

But  now  civilization  has  flown  and  nature  seems 
easier  and  somewhat  improved  b}^  its  absence.  Price 
is  ours.  He  will  walk  nine  miles  on  election  day  to 
Chinese  Camj),  the  nearest  precinct,  to  deposit  a  ballot 
for  us.  An  order  on  the  proprietor  of  the  Phcienix 
Saloon  for  a  generous  supply  of  whiskey  stimulates 
his  devotion  to  his  country-.  What  a  glorious  land  of 
hberty  is  this!  See  in  the  clear  azure  sky  above  us, 
floating  a  mere  speck,  the  eagle,  the  bird  of  freedom ! 
He  poises  himself  for  a  swoop.  He  comes  rushing 
down  on  quivering  pinion.  Nearer!  nearer!  It  is  a 
turkey  buzzard,  wlio  has  scented  a  dead  horse. 

Constituencies  can  only  be  found  where  civilization 
rages. 


%^ 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ANOTHER   CHANGE. 

The  world  seemed  coining*  to  an  end,  I  mean  my 
world.  I  had  ^'^ran  for  office"  and  was  not  electcnl,  I 
had  lectured  and  the  people  did  not  call  for  more,  my 
mines  and  all  they  contained  were  still  under  i;iH)und. 
The  cities  I  had  planned  wei'e  still  unbuilt,  I  had  writ- 
ten for  our  county  paper  and  piiiied  a  small  county, 
but  cashless  reputation.  The  fall  of  18GG  was  at 
hand,  and  I  was  saying-  "Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is 
vanity,''  when  one  day  I  received  an  lUK^xpected  letter 
from  the  publisher  of  a  San  Francisco  weekly  pai)er 
(The  Golden  Kra).  He  said  in  substance,  "Come  to 
San  Francisco  and  tr^^  your  chances  on  the  lilra.  We 
will  do  the  best  we  can  for  you." 

I  went  and  was  met  by  the  good  and  great-hearted 
Joseph  Lawrence,  the  principal  publisher,  and  up  to 
that  time  an  entire  stranger  to  me. 

The  transformation  in  my  life  was  sudden  and 
startling.  It  Avas  from  the  mountain  solitudes  to  the 
bustle  of  a  great  city,  from  the  miner's  cabin  to  the 
elegancies  of  the  first-class  hotel  in  which  my  friend 
positioned  me;  from  the  society  of  thc^  "boys"  to  tliat 
of  artists,  actors,  editors,  and  Avi'iters,  some  since  of 
Avorld-wide  reputation . 

It  was  the  sharpest  cornc^r  I  liad  ever  turned  in  my 
life.  It  led  into  a  wow  road,  a  new  life,  new  associa- 
tions, new  scenes,  and  eventual  1}^  new  countries. 


263 

And  this  chang:e  came  sudden,  unexpected  at  tlie 
'*  darkest  hour"  and  hke  "a  thief  in  the  nig-ht/' 

San  Francisco  had  cliang-ed  g-reatl^'  since  I  had  k^ft 
it  eight  years  previous.  Much  of  the  okl  "  '49  "  char- 
acteristic had  disappeared  or  was  disappearing.  The 
roughness  in  garb  and  manner  had  abated,  the  high 
silk  hat  topped  more  mascuhne  heads,  the  afternoon 
feminine  promenade  on  the  main  sliopping  streets  was 
more  elegantly  attired,  "  society  "  was  ckissifying  itself 
into  sets  and  "circles"  more  or  less  pretentious,  many 
more  men  had  homes  to  rest  in  at  night,  the  glare 
and  splendor  of  the  openly  pui)lic  gambling  house  had 
g-one,  the  revolver  as  an  outside  g'arniture  of  apparel 
had  disappeared. 

1  could  write  with  some  facility.  In  other  respects, 
I  was  awkward,  unassimilative  with  the  new  eleuient 
al)out  me,  aud  what  is  called  "shy  and  retiring  "  which 
really  iuiplies  a  kind  of  vanity  demanding  that  the 
world  shall  conu'  and  pet  you  without  your  having" 
the  courage  to  boldly  face  it  and  assert  your  place 
in  it  or  whatever  you  may  tliink  3'our  place.  I  was 
afraid  of  being  quizzed  or  made  a  mark  of  ridicule 
b^^  others,  and  an^^  pretentious  fop  could  with  ease 
make  me  take  a  back  seat  and  make  me  keep  m3' 
mouth  shut.  One  night  Mr.  Lawrence  invited  me  to 
call  with  him  on  a  noted  actress.  I  refused  out  of 
pure  dread.  Dread  of  what?  Of  an  opinion  I  had 
previously-  manufactured  in  my  own  mind  of  what  the 
actress  might  think  of  me;  when  I  should  probably 
have  been  of  about  as.  much  importance  to  her  as  a 
house  ^y.  Tlie  consequence  which  we  shy  and  retiring" 
people  attach  to  ourselves  in  our  secret  mind  is  ridicu- 
lously appalling. 


264 

Mr.  Lawrence  romaiiied  in  San  Francisco  bnt  a  few 
months  after  m^^  advent  on  the  Era.  Wliile  he  stayed 
he  did  all  in  his  power  to  <^ive  me,  socially  and  othei"- 
wise,  a  g:ood  "send  ofi."  He  introduced  me  to  aspii'ini^' 
and  successful  people,  placed  me  in  good  material 
surroundings  and  opened  for  me  the  door  to  a  success- 
ful element.  That  was  all  he  could  do,  and  in  my 
estimation  about  all  one  persoii  can  do  to  really  ad- 
vance the  fortunes  of  another. 

But  when  he  left  I  descended,  hired  the  cheapest 
lodging's,  lived  on  the  cheese-paring  plan,  and  was 
thereb}^  bi'ought  mainly  into  contact  Avith  that  cheap 
element  in  human  nature  which  longs  for  the  best 
things  in  the  world,  is  willing  even  in  some  Avay  to 
beg  for  them,  looks  on  the  prosperous  with  envy  and 
aversion  and  expends  most  of  its  force  in  anxiety  or 
grumbling,  instead  of  devising-  ways  and  means  to  push 
forward. 

So  for  the  most  part  I  did.  I  acc(^pted  the  lowest 
remuneration  for  my  services,  deeming  it  the  inevita- 
ble, went  figuratively'  hat  in  hand  to  those  who  bought 
my  articles,  and  brought  my  mind  at  last  to  think  t\u'y 
had  done  me  a  g-reat  favor  on  paying  me  my  just  dues. 
I  was  alwa^^s  expecting  starvation  or  failure  of  some 
soi't  and  for  that  very  reason  got  a  near  approach  to 
it.  My  cheap  lodgings  brought  me  a  sneak  thief  who 
stole  the  first  decent  suit  of  clothes  I  had  worn  for 
years  in  less  than  forty-eight  hours  after  I  had  put 
them  on.  My  associations  brought  me  people  who 
were  alwaj^s  moaning  over  their  luck,  living  mentally 
in  the  poorhouse,  and  therefore  we  mutually  strength- 
ened and  supported  each  other  on  the  road  to  what 
was  little  better  than  the  poorhouse. 


265 

Like  tiiem,  I  never  thought  of  being  else  than  a 
worlver  for  wages,  and  ran  away  mentally  at  any  idea 
of  taking  responsibilities.  Like  them  I  regarded  the 
class  wlio  did,  as  living*  in  a  world  I  never  could  reach. 
Like  them  I  regarded  the  onl}-  sure  and  safe  haven 
was  a  "  job,'^  or  situation  at  steady,  regular  wages. 

So,  for  years  I  had  indilTerent  luck,  and  lived  a  good 
deal  on  the  threadbare  side  of  life.  The  cause  and  the 
fault  lay  entirely"  in  m^^self.  Industriousl3',  though 
unconsciously  I  sat  down  on  m^-self,  punched  mj^self 
into  corners ;  as  I  in  mind  accepted  the  bottom  of  the 
heap  iis  the  inevitable  I  stayed  near  the  bottom. 

If  I  should  live  that  and  previous  portions  of  my  life 
over  again,  I  should  probably  do  the  same  thing.  Be- 
cause I  believe  there  is  a  truth  in  predestination.  In 
other  words,  when  you  are  in  a  certain  mental  condi- 
tion your  physical  life  and  fortune  will  be  an  exact  cor- 
respondence or  material  reflection  of  that  condition. 
When  you  grow  out  of  that  condition  and  get  a  differ- 
ent mind  3'our  surroundings,  fortunes,  and  associations 
will  be  in  accordance  with  that  state  of  mind.  Thank 
Heaven,  we  can  grow.  But  the  I  that  existed  twenty- 
five  years  ago  was  predestined  to  meet  the  fortunes  it 
did  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  those  fortunes  could 
only  change  as  the  mind  of  that  "  I "  changed. 


see 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

EDITING  VS.  WRITING. 

In  course  of  time  I  came  temporaril3^  to  the  occu- 
pancy of  an  editorial  chair.  I  became  a  "  We."  Be- 
cause on  becoming-  an  editor  you  cease  to  be  an  "  I," 
you  are  more.  You  are  several  persons  rolled  into 
one.  You  are  tlien  the  publisher,  tlie  proprietor,  the 
paper's  biggest  pa3ing  advertisers,  tlie  political  party 
you  represent,  and  the  rest  of  ^our  brother  editors. 
Under  these  circumstances  it  is  impossible  for  you 
to  say  what  "  I "  think.  Because  in  some  cases  you 
may  not  know  what  3^our  own  private  opinions  really 
are,  or  if  they  should  assert  themselves  strongly  you 
might  not  want  to  know  them.  You  are  a  "  we,"  one 
advantage  of  which  is  that  as  in  a  sense  you  have 
ceased  to  exist  as  a  personality.  You  are  no  longer 
personally  responsible  for  what  you  say  in  print.  The 
responsibility  of  the  "we''  can  be  distributed  among 
so  many  that  it  need  not  stick  anywhere  and  the  big"- 
ger  the  paper  the  larger  the  area  over  which  it  can  be 
distributed. 

I  knew  there  was  a  difference  between  "editing"  a 
paper  and  writing  for  one,  but  how  much  of  a  difTer- 
ence  I  did  not  reahze  until  my  destiny  placed  me  tem- 
porarily in  charge  of  the  Sunday  supplement  of  a  city 
daily,  which,  in  accordance  with  the  regulations,  or 
rather  exactions,  of  modern  journalisnit,  published  a 


367 

Sunday  paper,  or  rather  magazine,  of  sixteen  pages. 
I  had  about  forty-six  columns  to  "  edit." 

To  "edit"  is  not  to  write.  I  speak  thus  phiinly  for 
the  benefit  of  the  many  young  men  and  maidens  who 
are  to  swell  the  ranks  of  the  great  army  now  indus- 
triously engaged  in  sending  contributions  to  the  edi- 
tor's waste  basket,  and  who  still  imagine  that  the 
editor  does  nothing  but  write  for  the  paper. 

I  pause  here  a  moment  to  ask  where,  at  the  present 
increase  of  size  and  amount  of  matter  published,  are 
our  Sunday  papers  to  stop.  Already  the  contents  of 
some  Sunday  issues  amount  to  more  than  that  of  the 
average  montlily  magazine. 

While  this  competition  is  going  on  at  such  a  lively 
and  increasing  rate  between  newspaper  pubUshei's  to 
give  the  most  reading  matter  for  the  least  money,  I 
w^onder  if  the  idea  may  not  in  due  course  of  time 
strike  them  that  they  may  be  giving  to  tliose  wlio 
read  more  than  they  can  really  read  and  digest. 

Our  business  men  to-da}^  do  not  read  one-half  the 
contents  of  the  daily  paper.  They  have  only  time  to 
glance  at  them.  They  would  really  be  much  better 
suited  could  some  device  of  journalism  give  them  their 
news  iu  readable  print  in  the  compass  of  a  handker- 
chief, and  give  them  no  more. 

I  entered  on  my  duties  in  a  blissful  ignoranct*  of  the 
trials  that  awaited  me.  I  did  not  know  how  to  "put 
a  head  "  on  an  article  or  a  selected  "  reprint."  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  hieroglyphics  necessary  to  let  the  printer 
know  the  various  kinds  of  type  in  which  my  headings 
should  be  set  up.  I  did  not  ivalize  that  the  writer's 
manuscript  must  be,  in  a  sense,  ground  through  the 
editoi-'s  mill  and  go  through  a  certain  xn^ocess  before 


208 

being"  put  in  the  printer's  hands.  I  did  know  that 
soinethini^-  was  to  be  done,  but  the  extent  of  that  sonie- 
tliing-  I  did  not  know.  Of  the  signs  to  be  placed  on 
manuscript  to  show  whether  the  type  used  shoukl  be 
"  brevier  "  or  "  minion  "  or  "  agate/^  or  those  to  desig- 
nate  "  full-face  caps  "  for  my  upper  headings  and  "  full- 
face  lower  case"  for  my  iower  headings,  of  a  "display 
heading,"  of  "  balancing- the  columns,"  nor  that  the 
headings  on  a  page  should  not  be  jammed  up  together 
or  too  far  apart.  I  was  in  that  condition  of  ignorance 
that  the  smallest  part  of  a  printer  was  justified  in 
looking  down  on  me  with  contempt. 


ISr.  B. — In  the  composing  room  a  printer  is  a  much 
larger-sized  Indian  than  a  mere  writer. 

You  who  read  the  instructive  and  entertaining  col- 
umns of  ghastliness,  accident,  and  crime  in  your  morn- 
ing paper — you  who  are  unfortunately  or  otherwise 
neither  writers  nor  printers,  3^ou  think  you  could  easily 
write  one  of  tliose  staring  sensational  headings  over 
the  article  which  tell  all  about  it  before  you  read  it 
and  whet  your  appetite  for  reading  it.  But  you  might 
not.  It  is  not  so  much  the  literary  ability  needed.  It 
is  the  printer  who  stands  in  the  wa3\  It  is  the  printer 
who  must  have  just  so  many  words  for  one  kind  of 
"head  "  and  so  many  for  another.  You  must  get  your 
sense,  sensation,  and  infoi'mation  condensed  into  say 
twenty-four  or  twenty-six  Avords  for  one  part  of  the 
"head"  and  ten  or  twelve  for  another  part,  and  these 
must  neither  run  over  nor  run  under  these  numbers. 
If  they  do  and  the  spaces  are  uneven  that  issue  of  the 
paper  Avould,  in  that  printer's  estimation,  be  ruined. 
If  you,  the  editor,  do  not  "make  up  "your  pages  so 


200 

that  the  cohimns  "balance,"  the  paper,  for  him,  would 
be  a  wreck.  The  foreman  of  the  composing-  room 
values  a  newspaper  for  its  typographical  appearance. 
This  is  ri^»-ht.  A  paper,  like  a  housi^  should  look  neat. 
Only  the  foreman  need  not  forget  that  there  is 
something-  in  the  articles  besides  types.  The  magnate 
of  our  composing  room  called  all  written  matter 
"  stuff."  "  What  are  you  going  to  tlo  with  this  stuff  ? '' 
he  would  remark,  and  he  used  to  put  such  an  inflec- 
tion of  contempt  on  that  word  "stulf ''  that  it  would 
have  made  any  but  an  old  tough  writer  sick  to  hear 
him.  Poems  literally  perspiring  with  inspiration, 
beautiful  descriptive  articles  reeking-  with  soul  and 
sentiment,  lively  humor,  manuscript  written  and  re- 
written so  lovingl^^  and  carefully — children  of  many  a 
brilliant  brain— all  with  hun  was  but  "stuff"! 

During  all  the  years  that  I  had  been  writing  I  had 
bestowed  no  attention  on  the  "  making  up  "  of  a  paper. 
I  had  a  vague  idea  that  the  i)aper  made  up  itself.  I 
had  passed  in  my  articles,  and  liad  seen  them  in  their 
places  a  few  hours  later,  and  never  dreamt  that  the 
placing  of  these,  so  that  the  columns  should  end  evenly 
or  that  the  page  should  not  look  like  a  tiresome  ex- 
panse of  unbroken  type,  required  study,  taste,  and  ex- 
perience. 

I  was  aroused  from  this  dream  when  first  called  on 
to  "  make  up  "  my  eight-page  supplement.  Of  course, 
the  foreman  expected  me  to  go  right  on  like  an  old 
hand,  and  lay  out  in  the  printed  form  where  the  con- 
tinued story  should  be  and  how  many  columns  it 
should  fill,  where  the  foreign  correspondence  and  illus- 
trated articles  should  appear,  where  the  paste  pot  and 
scissored    matter,  shorter  articles,   and    paragraphs 


270 

should  be,  so  that  the  printer  could  place  his  .lialleys 
in  the  form  as  marked  out  per  schedule. 

I  was  confronted  within  a  sing-le  week  with  all  this 
mass  of  my  own  editorial  and  typoi^-raphical  igno- 
rance, and  even  more  than  can  here  be  told.  It  had 
not  before  dawned  upon  me  that  an  editor  should  be 
— well,  we  Avill  say,  the  skeleton  of  a  printer.  I  was 
not  even  the  g-host  of  one.  I  was  not  before  aAvare 
that  in  the  recesses  of  editorial  dens  and  composing- 
rooms  the  printer  stood  hig-her  than  the  writer. 
"Everybody"  writes  nowadays.  But  " everybody '' 
does  not  set  type  or  "make  up "  papers. 

I  saw  then  wiiat  I  had  done.  I  saw  that  I  had 
rashl^^  assumed  to  g-overn  a  realm  of  which  I  was  en- 
tirely ig-norant.  I  made  a  full  and  free  confession  to 
our  foreman.  I  put  myself  before  him  as  an  accom- 
plished ignoramus.  He  was  a  g-ood  fellow  and  helped 
me  through.  It  was  toug-h  work,  however,  for  several 
weeks.  As  Sunday  came  nearer  and  nearer,  mj^ 
spasms  of  dread  and  anxiety  increased.  I  was  seized 
in  the  dead  of  niglit  with  fears  lest  I  had  not  sent  up 
suITicient  "stulT"  to  fill  my  forty-six  columns.  Then 
I  would  be  taken  with  counter  fears  lest  I  had  sent  up 
too  much,  and  so  run  up  an  overplus  on  the  week's 
composing-  bill.  I  worried  and  fretted  so  that  by  Sat- 
urday nig-ht  I  had  no  clear  idea  at  all  or  judg-ment  in 
the  matter,  and  let  thing-s  take  their  own  course. 

But  the  hardest  task  of  all  was  dealing:  with  the 
mourners — I  mean  the  manuscript  bearers.  I  found 
myself  suddenly  inside  of  the  place,  v/here  I  had  so 
often  stood  outside.  I  Avas  the  man  in  the  editorial 
chair,  the  arbiter  of  manuscript  destiny,  the  despot 
who  could  accept  or  reject  the  writer's  article.     But  I 


271 

was  very  uncomfortable.  I  hated  to  reject  anybody's 
writing-s,  I  felt  so  keerily  for  them.  I  had  so  many 
times  been  thei'e  njyself.  I  wished  I  could  take  and 
pay  for  everybody's  manuscript.  But  I  could  not. 
The  requirements  of  the  paper  stood  like  a  wall  'twixt 
m\  duty  and  my  sympathy.  The  commands  from 
the  manag-ement  allowed  only  a  certain  amount  to  be 
expended  weekly  for  original  articles.  I  felt  like  a 
fiend— an  unwilling-  one— as  I  said  "No"  time  after 
time  and  sent  men  and  women  away  with  heav^^ 
hearts.  In  cases  I  tried  even  to  g-et  from  the  rejected 
a  little  s\'jnpathy  for  myself.  I  told  them  how  hard 
it  was  for  me  to  say  "No."  I  tried  to  convince  them 
that  mine  was  a  much  harder  lot  than  theirs,  and  that 
mine  was  by  far  the  greater  misery. 

And  how  many  times  after  I  had  suffered  and  re- 
jected the  ]\rSS.  did  I  try  to  answer  in  a  manner  satis- 
factory to  them  this  question :  "  Did  I  know  of  any 
newspaper  or  mag-azine  that  would  be  likely  to  accept 
their  matter  ?  "  How  I  tried  to  say  that  I  did  not,  in 
a  cheerful,  consoling-,  and  encouraging-  manner,  in  a 
manner  which  woukl  convey  to  them  and  fill  them 
with  the  idea  that  the  town  was  full  of  places  yawning- 
and  gaping  for  their  articles,  until  they  were  outside 
of  my  ofhce  themselves,  when  I  was  willing  that  the 
cold  unwelcome  truth  should  freeze  them. 

Then  I  received  letters  asking  for  the  return  of 
manusci-ipt.  On  entering  on  my  duties  I  found  the 
shelves  piled  with  tliem— legacies  left  me  by  various 
predecessors  -whether  read,  accepted,  or  rejected,  I 
could  not  find  out.  But  there  they  lay  roll  on  roll- 
silent,  dust  covered.  It  seemed  a  literary  receiving 
vault,  full  of  corpses. 


272 

It  Avas  a  siig-g-ostive  and  solcinn  spectacle  for  a 
young-  writer  to  look  upon.  Those  nian^^  pounds  of 
manuscript — articles  wliicli  niiii'lit  make  a  sensation  if 
printed  —  truths,  maybe,  wliit-li  had  not  yet  dawned 
on  the  Avorld — all  lying-  unread,  dead,  eold  and  uii[)ul)- 
lished. 

Lone,  lorn  ladies  came  to  me  with  the  children  of 
their  brains.  I  referred  them  at  times  to  the  editor 
of. the  daily  up-stairs.  He  referred  them  to  me  back 
ag-ain.  Sometimes  this  shuttlecock  process  was  re- 
versred.  The  daily  editor  fired  the  applicant  down  at 
me.  I  fired  him  up  again.  The  trouble  in  all  these 
cases  la}^  in  the  inability  of  these  people  to  recog-nize 
a  rejection  when  it  Avas  mildly  and  sympatheticali}^ 
applied.  It  was  necessary  in  some  cases  for  us  to  fire 
these  people  up  and  down  at  each  other  a  dozen  times 
before  their  weary  leg's  g-ave  th»m  a  hint  of  the  true 
state  of  the  case. 

I  saw  more  than  once  the  man  who  thought  to  clinch 
an  aceptance  of  his  matter  by  giving-  me  a  long-  ex- 
planation of  his  article,  and  its  valiu^  to  this  or  that 
interest.  I  liad  the  traveller  from  distant  lands,  who 
Avanted  to  tell  in  print  over  ag-ain  Avhat  he  had  seen. 
I  received  copies  of  A'erses,  accompanied  by  modest 
notes  from  the  senders  that  they  mig-ht  find  a  ])lac(^ 
'"in  some  corner"  of  the  paper.  I  was  beset  by  a  de- 
lusionist  who  had  a  theory  for  doing-  away  Avith  death, 
and  Avho  left  me,  as  he  said  to  "prefer  death"  and  die 
in  mj'  sins,  because  I  told  him  I  had  r<'ally  no  desire 
to  obtain  information  on  the  subject. 

Then  I  had  the  "space  gM"\bber ''  to  deal  Avitli — the 
poor  felloAV  Avho  Avrites  to  liA'e  at  so  much  per  column, 
Avho  tries  to  Avrite  as  many  columns  as  possible,  and 


273 

lialf  of  Avlioso  mind  while  Avriting-  is  woi'kiiii;-  more  to 
fill  up  his  cohiinns  with  words  rather  tlian  ideas.  But 
our  modern  system  of  ek'pliantine  journalism  is  in  a 
measure  responsihle  for  the  '"space  gTahhini^"  ten- 
dency, since  our  dail^^  and  weekly  journalistic  mam- 
moths and  meg-atheriums  g'ape  ever  for  more  and 
more  matter.  There  is  so  much  space  which  must  be 
filled,  and  if  not  filled  stuffed.  Every  demand  bring-s 
some  sort  of  supi)ly,  and  as  the  paper  nuist  l)e  stulfed, 
the  '* space  g-i/abber"  is  developed  to  stulf  it. 

I  had  also  to  cope  and  meet  with  the  literary  re- 
hashei'.  The  rehaslier  is  another  journalistic  brother 
who  writes  the  same  stor^^  experience,  description, 
etc.,  over  and  over  ag*ain  in  different  ways.  He  wrote 
it  years  ag-o.  It  proved  a  success.  He  has  been  w  rit- 
ing-  it  ever  since.  He  serves  it  up  roast,  baked,  boiled, 
broiled,  fried,  stewed. 

These  processes  may  endure  for  several  yeai's.  Then 
he  shoves  it  on  your  table,  covered  with  a  thin  disguise 
— a  g-ravy,  so  to  speak — of  his  more  recent  opinion  or 
experience.  But  it  is  about  tlie  same  dish.  The  older 
and  more  experienced  journalistic  nose  detects  it  by 
the  same  old  smell.  Finally  it  comes  up  as  hash,  plain 
hash,  dry  hash,  wet  hash,  baked  hash,  but  after  all  the 
same  old  liash. 

Our  papers  and  magazines  even  to-day  abound  a\  ith 
the  wor):  of  the  rehashei'.  It  is  just  as  g-ood  for  the 
young-  readers.  Every  ten  years  a  g-eneration  conies 
along-  for  whom  the  rehash  is  quite  new.  They  do  not 
know^  that  it  is  the  same  old  hash  w^ritten  and  read 
years  and  years  ago  by  people  dead  and  g-one.  The 
pretentious  magazines  dish  up  more  or  less  of  this 
hash.     It  is  served  up  in  style,  g-arnished  with  sprig-s 


274 

of  fine  lan^i^ua^q-c  and  sentiment  and  has  often  a  '^  dress, 
ing-"  of  eleg-ant  illustrations  poured  over  it.  But  it's 
the  same  old  hash  for  all  that.  If  you  look  over  the 
mag-azines  for  a  i)eriod  sa\'  of  twenty  years,  you  will 
find  these  rehashes — articles  descriptive  of  Rome, 
Egypt,  London,  the  Bayeaux  tapesti^^  travels  in 
countries  Avorn  footsore  by  travellers  for  generations, 
the  essay  on  Dante,  Shakespeare,  Goethe.  As  for  the 
frontier  romance  and  "Wild  Injun"  story,  that  has 
been  ground  and  reground  into  hash  so  fine  that  it 
has  become  "spoon  victuals,"  and  is  eaten  only  by 
the  3'oung  and  callow  of  the  reading  brood. 

A  literary  colleague,  who  commands  an  editorial 
chair,  says  that  he  allows  his  rehashers  to  serve  him 
the  same  article  four  times,  providing  the  garnishing- 
and  dressing  of  the  dish  show  artistic  cooker3\  But 
he  shuts  down  after  that.  This  is  not  onl}^  charitable 
on  his  part,  but  possibly  a  great  benefit  to  the  re- 
hasher,  for  if  he  is  allowed  to  go  on  unchecked,  the 
mental  rehashing  process  will  become  automatic,  the 
result  of  which  will  be  the  unconscious  rehashing  of 
the  same  article  through  all  eternity. 

This  experience  gave  me,  in  certain  respects,  an  en- 
tire change  of  heart.  I  Avill  never  think  hard  again  of 
an  editor  though  he  does  not  return  my  manuscript 
even  if  I  send  stamps.  I  will  still  continue  to  think 
kindly  of  him  though  he  "declines  with  thanks."  For 
I  realize  now  that  the  "editor"  who  would  do  his  duty 
must  have  nerves  of  steel  and  a  heart  of  stone. 


275 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

OPINIONS  JOURNALISTIC. 

For  five  3'cars  I  wrote  for  man}'  papers  in  San 
Francisco  and  wrote  some  thing's  good,  some  bad, 
some  indiil'erent.  I  attacked  and  ridiculed  the  errors 
and  foibles  of  others  watli  the  miraculous  confidence 
and  inferred  self-righteousness  of  a  man  who  had  not 
as  yet  begun  to  realize  his  own  shortcomings.  I  as- 
sailed abuses  and  Avas  sometimes  disgusted  at  what 
then  I  deemed  the  timidity'  and  lack  of  nerve  on  the 
part  of  newspaper  publishers,  when  they  refused  to 
print  my  tirades,  reproofs,  and  sarcasms.  As  a  cham- 
pion I  was  very  brave  to  speak  on  paper  in  the  privacy 
of  my  own  room.  As  a  man  with  no  capital  at  stake, 
I  was  very  wise  in  showing  others  where  to  put  their 
money. 

I  was  rated  in  San  Francisco  as  a  " Bohemian ^^  and 
deserved  tlie  name.  I  was  largely  in  s^^mpathy  witli 
the  idea  that  life  being  short  should  be  Avorked  at  a 
rapid  pace  for  all  that  could  be  got  out  of  it,  and  that 
we  the  dwellers  on  the  top  floor  of  intellect  were  justi- 
fied in  regarding  with  a  certain  scorn  the  duller  and 
generally  wealthier  plodders  on  the  lower  floors  of  busi- 
ness. We  were  as  proud  of  our  comparative  poverty 
and  disregard  of  money  because  we  held  m  some  way 
we  never  could  explain  that  such  poverty  argued  for 
us  the  possession  of  more  brains,  though  we  were  very 


g\ad  to  receive  our  inone^^  from  people  we  deemed 
ourselves  so  far  above.     I  think  this  is  all  nonsense. 

I  think  now  that  the  ability  to  express  ideas  well  on 
paper  is  a  A^astly  over-rated  and  over-praised  talent. 
A  man  may  wi'ite  well  and  not  lia\'e  sufRcient  execu- 
tive ability  to  build  a  hen  coop  or  govern  one  after  it 
is  built;,  and  brains  play  a  very  important  part  in  an,)^ 
kind  of  managerial  ability,  be  the  field  larg-e  or  small. 

Bohemianism  as  it  existed  thii'ty  jx'ars  ago  is  nearly 
dead.  It  has  been  discovered  that  late  hours,  gin,  and 
nocturnal  out-pourings  of  wit,  brain,  and  brillianc}^,  do 
not  increase  the  writer's  originality,  or  fertility  of 
idea,  and  that  a  great  deal  of  force  is  wasted  at  such 
times  which  should  be  turned  into  dollars  ;uid  cents. 

A  man  or  woman  to-day  who  succeeds  permanentl}' 
with  the  pen  will  not  onl^^  live  well-ordered  lives,  but 
possess  a  business  ability  outside  of  the  pen,  in  order 
to  g-et  their  ideas  before  the  public.  Never  before 
were  there  so  many  writers,  and  never  before  so  many 
able  writers.  The  literary  mediocrit\^  of  to-day  would 
have  made  a  brilliant  reputation  sixty  years  ago. 
But  of  those  who  are  nu;rely  writers,  even  if  good 
writers,  three -fourths  as  regards  compensation  ai-e 
almost  on  the  same  relative  plane  as  the  type-writei'. 
The  supply  is  greater  than  the  demand.  People  must 
write  even  if  not  paid  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  their 
ideas  in  print,  and  for  this  reason  to-day  do  we  find 
country  Aveeklies  furnished  regulai'ly  free  of  expensi; 
with  interesting  correspondence  from  abroa.d  hy  the 
editors  travelling  friends. 

As  a  newspaper  num  and  correspondent,  I  Avas  not 
ahvays  very  particular  in  Avriting  about  people,  and 
dragging  their  personality  before  the  public.    I  wanted 


subjects  and  something-  or  sonieboch'  to  write  about. 
These  were  my  capital  stock  in  trade. 

I  don't  wonder  that  a  certain  unpopularity  with  a 
class  attaches  itself  to  "newspaper  men/'  "corre- 
spondents "  and  reporters.  The  tendenc}^  and  tempta- 
tion is  to  become  social  Paul  Pry's,  especially  when 
family  or  individual  secrets  will  swell  a  column  and 
bring-  dollars.  Of  all  this  I  did  my  share,  and  regard 
myself  now  with  small  favor  for  so  doing. 

The  freedom  of  the  Press  has  developed  Press  free- 
booters male  and  female,  and  the  Press  has  now  all  the 
freedom  of  the  village  gossip. 

On  the  other  hand  a  great  many  people  like  to  see 
their  nam<»s  in  print.  The  remark  "don't  put  my 
name  in  tlie  paper''  often  means  "do  put  my  name  in 
the  paper,"  with  little  care  as  to  the  accompanying 
comment. 

Many  people  have  a  terrible  and  I  think  needless 
fear  of  what  the  newspaper  can  do  and  say  to  make 
or  unmake  them,  to  give  a  book  or  a  play  a  reputation 
or  kill  it  outi'ight.  T  notice  that  a  play  often  becomes 
very  popular  wlien  its  first  critics  condemned  it,  and  the 
same  can  be  said  of  books.  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  Mark 
Twain's  Innocents  Abroad,  Helper's  Irrepressible  Con- 
llict  and  Bret  Harte's  Heathen  Chinee  were  not  ad- 
vertised into  notice  by  the  Press.  Their  force  made 
the  Press  advertise  them. 

The  Press,  which  so  often  claims  to  "mould  popular 
opinion"  is  in  reality  moulded  by  populai'  opinion  and 
follows  it,  while  sometimes  claimmg  to  load  it.  There 
is  a  pow(M'  v.hicji  brings  men  and  movements  for 
greatei-  or  lesser  periods  into  public  notice^  wliicli  the 
Press  does  not  manufacture. 


2T8 

The  Press  wliicli  claims  indirectly  to  have  so  much 
of  the  public  nioi'als  and  the  public  i^ood  in  its  cai*e 
and  keepini;- — this  "lever  of  civilization^'  which  will 
delug-e  its  columns  for  days  and  weeks  with  the  pre- 
liminaries of  a  prize  fight  or  f)arades  for  a  similar  time 
the  details  of  a  scandal,  places  a  g'reat  deal  before  the 
eyes  of  every  boy  and  g-irl  which  seems  to  me  neither 
civilized  nor  civilizing. 

I  object  here  neither  to  the  prize  fight  nor  its  pub- 
lication. But  1  can't  think  the  man  Avho  spreads  it 
all  bi'oadcast  day  after  day  before  the  comniunity  as 
a  promoter  of  the  highest  refinement  or  civilization. 

The  Press  of  to-day  is  either  ridiculing  ideas  or  ig- 
noring them  entirely,  w^hich  the  Press  of  a  near  Future 
will  treat  as  most  important  realities,  just  as  fift}" 
3'ears  ago,  nine-tenths  of  the  American  newspapers 
treated  the  subject  of  human  slaver3\  Did  the  Press 
of  America  mould  public  opinion  in  this  respect  or  Avas 
it  the  idea  that  moulded  public  opinion  first  and  as 
a  necessar}^  consequence  the  Press  foUoAved.  Not  that 
I  advocate  the  idea  that  the  editor  should  express 
himself  far  in  advance  of  public  opinion  or  rather  of 
public  knowledge.  It  is  a  very  unwise  thing  to  do.. 
The  inevitable  result  is  the  kick  instead  of  the  copper. 
Martyrdom  is  not  the  business  of  a  ncAvspaper.  Many 
a  leading  editor  of  to-day  deemed  conservative  and 
old  fogyish  is  really  more  liberal  and  progressive  than 
those  who  rail  at  hnn.  But  he  is  Aviser  than  they  aiul 
has  learned  that  ideas  which  may  be  accepted  and  in 
full  sway  a  century  hence,  cannot  be  argued  as  if  in 
full  fruition  to-day.  He  may  know  also  how  to  pa  v(^ 
the  way  for  a  new  id(*a,  and  is  often  doing  it  while  his 
readers  nevei-  realize  his  intent. 


279 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

RECENT   ANTIQUITY. 

I  WAS  soon  to  leave  for  the  Eastern  States.  When 
I  reahzed  that  I  was  g'oing-,  I  found  to  my  surprise 
tliat  I  had  made  a  home  in  CaUfornia,  that  it  was  an 
old  home  and  about  it  clun.ij;"  all  the  memories  and  as- 
sociations of  an  old  home. 

I  wanted  to  visit  the  mines  and  take  a  farewell  look 
at  the  camps  where  I  had  lived  and  worked  in  a  period 
now  fast  becoming*  "  old  times,"  and  I  went. 

The  term  antiquity  is  relative  in  its  character. 
Twent}^  years  may  involve  an  antiquity  as  much  as 
200  or  2,000.  Indeed,  as  regards  sensation  and  emo- 
tion, the  m.ore  recent  antiquity  is  the  more  strongly 
is  it  realized  and  more  keenly  felt.  Standing  to-day  on 
the  hillside  and  looking  down  on  the  site  of  the  camp 
where  you  mined  twenty-five  3^ears  ago,  and  then 
going  down  that  hill  and  treading  over  that  site,  now 
silent  and  deserted,  and  you  realize,  so  to  speak,  a  live 
antiquity.  So  far  as  ancient  Greece  or  Rome  are  con- 
cerned, their  histories  would  make  no  different  im- 
pression on  us  if  dated  GOO  years  ago  or  G,000.  We  are 
imposed  upon  by  these  rows  of  ciphers.  They  convey 
i-eally  no  sense  of  time's  duration.  They  are  but 
mathematical  sounds.  We  know  only  that  these  na- 
tions and  these  men  and  women  lived,  at(%  slept,  drank, 
quamOled,  coveted,  loved,  hated,  and  died  a  long  time 


280 

ere  vre  wqvg  horn  and  that  of  it  all  we  have  but  frag*- 
luents  of  their  histoiy,  or  rather  frag-ments  of  the  his- 
tory- of  a  few  prominent  individaals. 

But  when  you  stand  alone  at  Dry  Bar,  where  you 
mined  when  it  was  a  livel}^  camp  in  1857,  with  its  score 
of  mudd}^  shiice  streams  coursing'  hitlier  and  thither, 
its  stores,  its  saloons,  its  hotel  and  its  express  office, 
and  see  now  hut  one  rotting  pine-log  cabin,  whose  I'oof 
has  tumbled  in  and  whose  sides  have  tumbled  out; 
where  all  about  is  a  silent  waste  of  long-worked-oif 
banks  or  bare  ledge  and  piles  of  boulders  in  which 
the  herbage  has  taken  root;  where  every  mark  of  the 
former  houses  and  cabins  has  disappeared,  save  a 
mound  here,  or  a  i^ile  of  stone  indicating  a  former 
cliimney  tliere,  you  have  a  livel^^  realization  of  an- 
tiquity, though  it  be  a  recent  one.  You  knew  the  men 
who  lived  here;  you  worked  with  them;  3^ou  know  the 
sites  of  the  houses  in  which  they  lived;  3^ou  have  an 
event  and  a  memory  for  ever^^  acre  of  territor3^  here- 
about. Down  there,  where  the  river  narrows  between 
tliose  two  high  points  of  rock,  oiu:e  stood  a  rickety' 
bridge.  It  became  more  and  more  shaky  and  danger- 
ous, until  one  day  Tom  Wharton,  the  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  filed  l)y  a  desire  j)^^^^  hono  j^uhlico  and  rather 
more  than  his  ordinary  quantity  of  wliiskey,  cut  the 
bi'idge  awa^^  with  his  axe  and  it  floated  down  stream. 
Over  yondei',  on  that  sandy  point,  was  the  ricliest 
claim  on  llie  bar. 

Will  you  go  down  to  Pot-Hole  Bar,  two  miles  below? 
The  trail  ran  I )y  the  river.  But  freshet  after  freshet 
has  rushed  uvei'  the  bank  and  wijxnl  out  the  track 
made  by  th(3  footprints  of  a  few  years.  There  is  no 
trace  of  the  trail.     The  chaparral  has  grown  over  and 


281 

quite  closed  it  up.  Here  and  there  is  a  faint  trace, 
and  then  it  bring-s  up  short  against  a  j^oung-  pine  or  a 
bucke^^e,  the  growth  of  the  Last  ten  j^ears.  Yet  in 
former  days  this  path  ranked  in  your  mind  of  the  im- 
portance of  a  town  street.  You  had  no  idea  how 
(iuickly  nature,  if  left  alone,  will  restore  things  to 
what  we  term  "primitive  conditions."  If  a  gTeat 
city  was  desei-ted  in  these  foothills,  within  twenty 
years'  time  the  native  growths  would  creep  down 
and  in  upon  it,  start  plantations  of  chaparral  m  the 
streets,  festoon  the  houses  with  vines,  while  winged 
seeds  would  fill  the  gutters  and  cornices  with  verduix\ 
It  is  a  hard  struggle  through  the  undergrowth  to  Pot- 
Hole  Bar.  No  man  lives  there  now.  No  man  goes 
there.  Even  the  boulder  piles  and  bare  ledges  of  fifteen 
years  ago,  marking  the  scarifying  work  of  3'our  race 
on  mother  earth's  face,  are  now  mounds  overgrown 
with  weeds.  What  solitude  of  ancient  ruined  cities 
equals  this?  Their  former  thousands  are  nothing  to 
you  as  individuals;  but  you  knew  all  the  bo^^s  at  Pot- 
Hole.  It  was  a  favorite  after-supper  trip  from  Dry 
Bar  to  Pot-Hole  to  see  how  the  "boys"  were  getting 
on,  and  vice  versa  from  Pot-Hole  to  Dry  Bar. 

A  cotton-tail  rabbit  sends  a  flash  of  white  through 
the  bushes.  His  family  now  inhabits  Pot-Hole.  They 
came  back  after  all  of  your  troublesome  race  had  left, 
and  very  glad  Avere  the  "cotton-tails"  of  the  riddance. 
There  is  a  broken  shovel  at  your  feet  and  near  bj^  in 
the  long  grass  you  see  the  fragment  of  a  sluice's  false 
bottom,  bored  through  with  auger  holes  to  catch  the 
gold  and  worn  quite  thin  by  the  attrition  of  pebble 
and  boulder  along  its  upper  surface.  This  is  about  the 
only  vestige  of  the  miner's  former  workc     Stop!     On 


282 

the  hillside  3'onder  is  a  mound -like  elevation  and  be- 
yond that  a  loni>-  green  raised  line.  One  marks  the 
reservoir  and  the  other  the  ditch.  It  was  the  Pot- 
Hole  Company's  reservoir,  built  after  they  had  con- 
cluded to  take  water  from  the  ditch  and  Avash  off  a 
point  of  g-ravel  jutting  tow^ard  the  river.  The^^  had 
washed  it  all  off  by  1856,  and  then  the  compan^^  dis- 
banded and  went  their  respective  ways.  Pot-Hole  lay 
very  quiet  for  a  couple  of  years,  but  little  doing  there 
save  rocker  washing  for  grub  and  whiskey  by  four  or 
five  men  who  had  concluded  that  "  grub  and  whiskey  " 
was  about  all  in  hfe  worth  hving  for.  A  ''  slouchy  " 
crowd,  prone  to  bits  of  rope  to  tie  up  their  sus- 
penders, unshaven  faces,  and  not  a  Sunday  suit  among 
them. 

The}'  pottered  about  the  bar  and  the  bank,  working 
sometimes  in  concert  and  then  quarrelling,  and  every 
man  betaking  himself  to  his  private  rocker,  pick,  and 
shovel  for  a  few  da3\s  or  weeks  and  coming  together 
again,  as  compelled  by  necessity.  One  of  them  com- 
menced picking  into  a  slim  streak  of  gravel  at  the  base 
of  the  red  hard-pan  bank  left  by  the  pot-holers.  It 
paid  to  the  pan  first  two  cents  and  a  little  farther  in 
three,  and  a  little  farther  seven,  and  then  the  gold  be- 
came coarser  and  heavier  and  it  yielded  a  bit  to  the 
pan.  The  blue  ledge  "  pitched  in,"  the  gravel  streak 
grew  wider  and  i-icher,  the  crowd  took  up  the  whole 
face  of  the  bank,  150  feat  to  the  man,  and  found  they 
had  struck  fortunes.  And  then  the^^  worked  at  short 
intervals  and  "  went  it "  at  long  ones,  and  all  save  four 
drank  themselves  to  death  within  four  years. 

They  have  all  long  since  gone.     They  are  scattered 
for  the  most  part  you  know  not  where.     Two  are  liv- 


283 

ing-  in  San  Francisco  and  are  now  men  of  might  and 
mark.  Another  you  have  heard  of  far  awa^'  in  the 
Eastern  States^  living'  in  a  remote  villag"e,  Avhose  name 
is  never  heard  of  outside  the  county  bounds.  One  has 
been  reported  to  you  as  "up  North  somewhere;"  an 
other  down  in  Arizona  "somewhere/' and  three  you 
can  locate  in  the  county.  Tliat  is  but  seven  out  of 
the  one  hundred  who  once  dwelt  here  and  roundabout. 
Now  that  recollection  concentrates  herself  you  do  call 
to  mind  two  others — one  died  in  the  county  almshouse 
and  another  became  insane  and  was  sent  to  Stockton. 
That  is  all.  Nine  out  of  the  one  hundred  that  once  re- 
sided at  Dry  Bar.  It  is  mournful.  The  river  monot- 
onously drones,  gurgles,  and  murmurs  over  the  ritHe. 
The  sound  is  the  same  as  in  "58.  A  bird  on  the  oppo- 
site bank  gives  forth,  at  regular  intervals,  a  loud 
querulous  cry.  It  was  a  bii'd  of  the  same  species  whose 
note  so  woi'e  on  the  nerves  of  Mike  McDonald  as  he 
lay  dying  of  consumption  in  a  big  house  which  stood 
yonder,  that,  after  anathematizing  it,  he  would  be- 
seech his  watcher  to  take  a  gun  and  blow  the  "  cussed  " 
thing's  head  off.  Perhaps  it  is  the  same  bird.  The 
afternoon  shadows  are  creeping  down  the  mountain 
side.  The  outline  of  the  hills  opposite  has  not  at  all 
changed,  and  there,  down  by  the  bank,  is  the  enormous 
fraguu'nt  of  broken  rock  against  which  Dick  Childs 
built  his  brush  shelter  for  the  summer  and  out  of 
which  he  was  chased  hy  a  sudden  fall  rise  of  the  river. 
But  it  is  very  lonesome  with  all  these  people  here  so 
vivid  in  memory,  yet  all  gone,  and  never,  never  to 
come  back. 

You  wonder  if  any  of  the  "  old  crowd  "  now  living, 
hve  over  as  you  do  the  past  life  hei'e;  if  a  single  one 


284 

within  the  last  ten  years  has  ever  revisited  the  spot; 
or  if  an}'  of  them  have  an}'  desire  to  revisit  it.  8onie 
of  them  did  so  once.  There  was  Jake  Bennett.  As 
late  as  '(j2,  Jake,  who  had  removed  to  the  next  coun- 
ty, would  come  ever}"  summer  on  a  pilg'rimag'e  to 
'^see  the  boys/' and  the  boys  at  Dry  Bar  were  even 
then  sadh'  reduced  in  number,  for  the  camp  ran  down 
ver}"  quickly  Avithin  the  four  3'ears  dating"  from  '58. 
But  Jake  Avas  faithful  to  old  memories  and  associa- 
tions, and  proved  it  by  the  ten-miles'  walk  he  was  ob- 
lig-ed  to  take  to  reach  Dry  Bar.  Dry  Bar  was  never 
on  a  regular  stag-e  route.  Jake  was  an  ex-Philadel- 
phian  and  called  rest  "west"  and  violin  "wiolin." 
But  no  one  comes  here  now,  at  least  on  any  such  er- 
rand. It's  a  troublesome  and  rather  expensive  locality 
to  reach  and  mere  sentiment  does  not  pay.  The  near- 
est resident  is  a  Missouri  hog"- rancher,  whose  house  is 
above  on  the  hill  a  couple  of  miles  away.  He  neither 
knows  nor  cares  for  Dry  Bar's  former  histor}-.  He 
came  here  but  ten  years  ag-o.  His  half-Avild  swine  are 
ambushed  about  in  the  shelter  of  the  elder  and  buck- 
eye bushes,  and  fi'ightened  at  yom*  approach  plung"e 
snorting-  into  the  deeper  thickets. 

Here  it  is.  The  remains  of  your  own  cabin  chimn(y, 
a  pile  of  smoke-blackened  stones  in  the  tall  g-rass.  Of 
the  cabin  every  vestig-e  has  disappeared.  You  built 
that  chimney  yourself.  It  was  an  awkward  affair, 
but  it  served  to  carry  out  the  smoke,  and  when  fin- 
ished you  surv(n'ed  it  with  pleasure  and  some  pride, 
for  it  was  your  cliimney.  Have  you  ever  felt  "snug- 
g-er"and  more  cozy  and  comfortable  since  than  3'ou 
did  on  the  long-,  rainy  winter  nig-hts,  when,  the  supper 
finished    and    the    crockery    washed,  you    and   your 


285 

"pard'^  sat  bj' the  g-lowing"  coals  and  prepared  your 
pipes  for  the  evening"  smoke  ?  There  were  great  hopes 
and  some  great  strikes  on  Dry  Bar  in  those  days;  that 
was  in  '52.  Mining  was  still  in  the  pan,  rocker  and 
long  torn  era;  sluices  were  just  coming  in.  H^xlraul- 
icking  100-foot  banks  and  washing  hills  otf  the  face  of 
the  earth  had  not  been  thought  of.  The  dispute  as  to 
the  respective  merits  of  the  long  vs.  the  short-handled 
shovel  was  still  going  on.  A  gra^-  or  red  shirt  was  a 
badge  of  honor.  The  deep  river-beds  Avere  held  to  con- 
tain enormous  store  of  golden  nuggets.  River  mining 
was  in  its  wing  and  coffer-dam  phase. 

Perhaps  the  world  then  seemed  3'ounger  to  you 
than  now?  Perhaps  your  mind  then  set  little  store 
on  this  picturesque  spot,  so  wrapped  were  you  in 
visions  of  the  future?  Perhaps  then  you  wrote  regu- 
larly to  that  girl  in  the  States — your  first  heart 's- 
trouble — and  your  anticipation  was  ^xed  entirely  on 
the  home  to  be  built  up  there  on  the  gold  3^ou  were  to 
dig  here  ?  Pei'haps  the  girl  never  married  you,  the 
home  was  never  built  and  nothing  approaching  the 
amount  of  oro  expected  dug  out.  You  held,  then. 
Dry  Bar  in  light  estimation.  It  was  for  3'ou  onh'  a 
temporary-  stopping  place,  from  which  you  wished  to 
get  its  gold  as  quickly  as  you  could  and  get  away 
from  as  soon  as  possible.  You  never  expected  Dry 
Bar,  its  memories  and  associations  thus  to  make  for 
themselves  a  "  local  habitation  and  a  name "  in  your 
mind.  We  live  sometimes  in  homes  w^e  do  not  real- 
ize until  much  of  their  material  part  has  passed  away. 
A  horned  toad  scuttles  along  the  dry  grass  and  in- 
flates himself  to  terrify  you  as  you  approach.  Those 
rat-like   ground  squirrels  are  running  from  hole  to 


286 

hole,  like  gossiping*  neighbors,  and  "  chipping  "  shrill3- 
at  each  other.  These  are  old  summer  acquaintances 
at  Dry  Bar. 

Is  it  with  a  feeling  of  curiosity  3^ou  take  up  one  of 
those  stones  handled  h}'  3'ou  thirty-one  3^ears  ago  and 
wonder  how  like  or  unlike  you  may  be  to  yourself  at 
that  time  ?  Are  you  the  same  man  ?  Not  the  same 
young  man,  certainly.  The  face  is  worn;  the  eyes 
deeper  set ;  the  hair  more  or  less  gray  and  there  are 
lines  and  wrinkles  where  none  existed  then.  But  that 
is  only  the  outside  of  your  "  soul  case."  Supf)ose  that 
you,  the  John  Doe  of  1883,  could  and  should  meet  the 
John  Doe  of  1853  ?  Would  you  know  him  ?  Would 
you  agree  on  all  points  with  him?  Could  you  "get" 
along  with  him  ?  Could  you  "  cabin  "  with  him  ?  Could 
you  "  summer  and  winter "  with  him  ?  Would  the 
friends  of  the  John  Doe  of  '53,  wiio  piled  up  that  chim- 
ney, be  the  friends  of  the  present  John  Doe,  wiio  stands 
regarding  its  ruins  ?  Are  the  beliefs  and  convictions 
of  that  J.  Doe  those  of  this  J.  Doe  ?  Are  the  jokes 
deemed  so  clever  b}^  that  J.  Doe  clever  to  this  J.  Doe  ? 
Are  the  men  great  to  that  J.  Doe  great  to  tiie  jiresent 
J.  Doe  ?  Does  he  now  see  the  filmly,  f rotli3^  fragments 
of  scores  of  pricked  bubbles  sailing  away  and  vanish- 
ing in  air  ?  If  a  man  die  shall  he  live  again  ?  But 
how  much  of  a  man's  mind  may  die  out  and  be  sup- 
planted by  other  ideas  ere  his  body  goes  back  to  dust  ? 
How  much  of  this  J.  Doe  belongs  to  that  J.  Doe,  and 
how  much  of  the  same  man  is  there  standing  here  ? 


287 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

GOING  HOME. 

After  sixteen  years  of  exile  in  California,  I  found 
myself  rolling"  seaward  and  homeward  through  the 
Golden  Gate  in  the  Panama  steamer  Sacramento. 
Tlie  parting  gun  had  been  fired,  the  caj)tain,  naval 
cloak,  cap,  eye-glass  and  all,  had  descended  from  his 
perch  of  command  on  the  paddle-box,  the  engine  set- 
tled steadil}^  to  its  work.  Telegraph  Hill,  Meigg's 
Wharf,  Black  Point,  Alcatraz,  Lime  Point,  Fort  Point, 
one  by  one  receded  and  crept  into  the  depressing 
glooni}^  fog,  the  mantle  in  which  San  Francisco  loves 
so  well  to  wrap  herself.  The  heave  of  the  Pacific 
began  to  be  plainly  felt,  and  Avith  it  the  customary 
misery. 

The  first  two  days  out  are  devoted  to  sea  and  home- 
sickness. Everybody  is  wretched  about  something. 
No  sooner  is  the  steamer  a  mile  be^^ond  the  Heads 
than  we,  who  for  years  have  been  awaiting  a  blessed 
deliverance  from  California,  are  seized  Avith  unutter- 
able longings  to  return.  All  at  once  we  discover  how 
pleasant  is  the  land  and  its  people.  We  review  its 
associations,  its  life,  its  peculiar  excitements,  and  the 
Avarm  friendships  Ave  haA^e  made  there.  And  noAV  it 
is  all  fading  in  the  fog:  the  Cliff  House  is  disappear- 
ing, it  is  going,  it  is  gone.  Heart  and  stomach  are 
contemporaneously  Avretched:   Ave  bury  ourselves  in 


our  berths;  we  call  upon  the  steward  and  stewardess; 
we  wish  ardently  that  some  accident  ma3^  befall  the 
ship  and  oblige  her  to  put  back.  No!  Not  more  in- 
exorable, certam  and  inevitable  is  the  earth  in  its  rev- 
olution, the  moon  in  its  orbit,  or  one's  landlord  when 
tlie  rent  is  overdue,  than  is  the  course  of  the  stately 
vessel  south.  SoHth,  day  after  day,  she  plung'es;  the 
North  Star  sinks,  the  sky  becomes  fairer,  the  air 
milder,  the  ocean  of  a  softer  l5uie;  the  sunsets  develop 
the  tints  of  Fairyland;  the  sunrise  mocks  all  human 
ornamentation  in  its  gorg-eousness.  Light  coats  and 
nuisHn  drcvsses  blossom  on  the  projuenade-deck;  the 
colored  waiters  develop  white  linen  suits  and  faultless 
neckties.  The  sea  air  on  the  northei-n  edge  of  the 
tropic  zone  is  a  bahn  for  every  wound,  and  forces  us 
into  content  against  our  perverse  wills. 

We  had  a  medley  on  board.  There  was  a  batch  of 
sea-captains  g"oing  East,  some  with  Avives,  some  with- 
out; one  of  the  maritime  madams,  they  said,  could 
navigate  a  vessel  as  well  as  her  husband;  she  cer- 
tainly had  a  sailor  balance  in  walking  the  deck  in 
rough  weather.  There  was  a  tall  Mephistophelicrlook- 
ing  German  youth,  who  daily  took  up  a  position  on 
deck,  fortified  by  a  novel,  a  cigar,  and  a  field-glass, 
never  spoke  a  word  to  any  one,  and  was  reported  to 
be  a  baron.  There  were  a  dogmatic  young  Eng- 
lishman with  a  heavy  burr  in  his  voice,  who  seemed 
making"  a  business  of  seeing  the  Avorld ;  a  stock}^  ^'o^^ng" 
fellow,  one  of  Morgan's  men  during  the  war,  and  an- 
other who  had  seen  his  term  of  service  on  the  Federal 
side;  a  stout  lady,  dissatisfied  with  everj^thing,  sick 
of  travelling,  dragging  about  Avith  her  a  thin-legged 
husband  Avell  stricken  in  years,  who  interfered  feebly 


289 

with  her  tantrums;  and  a  A'oiini^  man  who  at  the 
commencement  of  the  trip  started  out  with  amazing- 
celerity^  and  success  in  making-  himself  popular.  This 
last  was  a  cheery,  chipper^^  3'oung-  fellow ;  his  stock  in 
trade  was  small,  hut  he  knew  liow^  to  display  it  to  the 
best  advantage.  It  gave  out  in  ahout  ten  days,  and 
everybody  voted  him  a  bore.  He  took  seriousl^^  to 
drinking  brandy  ere  we  arrived  in  New  York.  And 
then  came  the  rank  and  file,  without  sufficient  indi- 
viduality as  yet  developed  to  be  even  disagreeable. 

But  there  was  one  other,  a  well-to-do  Dutchess 
County  farmer,  who  had  travelled  across  the  continent 
to  see  "  Californy,"  and  concluded  to  take  the  steamer 
on  his  Avay  home  to  observe  as  much  as  he  might  of 
Central  America;  a  man  who  had  served  the  Empire 
State  in  her  legislature;  a  man  mighty  in  reading. 
Such  a  walking-  encyclopa^lia  of  facts,  figures,  history, 
poetry,  metapliysics  and  philosophy  I  never  met 
before.  He  could  quote  Seward,  Bancroft,  Carl 
Schurz,  Clay,  and  Webster  by  the  hour.  His  voice 
was  of  the  sonorous,  nasal  order,  with  a  genuine  Yan- 
kee twang.  I  tried  in  vain  to  spring  on  him  some  sub- 
ject whereof  he  should  appear  ignorant.  One  might 
as  well  have  endeavroed  to  sliow  Noah  Webster  a 
new  word  in  the  English  language.  And  all  this 
knowledge  during  the  trip  he  ground  out  in  lots  to 
order.  It  fell  from  his  lips  dry  and  dusty.  It  lacked 
soul.  It  smelt  overmuch  of  histories,  biographies,  and 
political  pamf)hlets.  He  turned  it  all  out  in  that 
mechanical  way,  as  though  it  were  ground  through  a 
cofTee-mill.  Even  his  admiration  was  dry  and  lifeless. 
So  was  his  enthusiasm.  He  kept  both  measured  out 
for  occasions.     It  is  a  pleasant  sail  along  the  Central 


290 

American  coast,  to  see  the  shores  Uned  with  forests 
so  g-reen,  with  palms  and  cocoanuts,  and  in  the  back- 
ground dark  voltanic  cones;  and  this  man,  in  a  re- 
spectable black  suit,  a  standing  collar  and  a  beaver 
hat,  would  gaze  thereon  by  the  hour  and  grind  out  his 
dusty  admiration.  Among  the  steerage  passengers 
was  a  bugler  who  every  night  gave  a  free  entertain- 
ment. He  played  with  taste  and  feeling,  and  when 
once  we  had  all  allowed  our  souls  to  drift  away  in 
"The  Last  Rose  of  Summer,^'  the  Grinder  in  the  midst 
of  the  beautiful  strain  brought  us  plump  to  earth  by 
turning-  out  the  remark  that  "  a  bewgle  made  abeout 
as  nice  music  as  any  instrument  goin',  ef  it  was  well 
played."  Had  he  been  thrown  overboard  he  would 
have  drifted  ashore,  and  bored  the  natives  to  death 
with  a  long  and  lifeless  story  of  his  escajpe  from  drown- 
ing. 

Dames  Rumor  and  Gossip  are  at  home  on  the  high 
seas.  The^^  commence  operations  as  soon  as  their 
stomachs  are  on  sea-legs.  Everybody  then  undergoes 
an  inspection  from  everybody  else,  and  we  report  to 
each  other.  Mrs.  Bluster!  Mrs.  Bluster's  conduct  is 
perfectly  scandalous  before  we  have  been  out  a  week: 
she  nibbling  around  young  men  of  one-half — ay,  one- 
fourtli — her  age !  The  young  miss  who  came  on  broad 
in  charge  of  an  elderly  couple  has  seceded  from  them; 
promenades  the  hurricane-deck  very  late  with  a  dash- 
ing- young  Calif ornian;  but  then  birds  of  a  feather, 
male  and  female,  will  flock  together.  Mr.  Bleareye  is 
full  of  brandy  every  morning  before  ten  o'clock;  and 
the  "catamaran"  with  the  thin -legged  and  subjected 

hus))and  does  nothing  but  talk  of  her  home  in . 

We  know  the  color  and  pattern  of  her  carpets,  the 


291 

number  of  her  servants,  the  qiiaUty  of  her  plate,  and 
yesterday  she  brouiilit  out  her  jewehy  and  made 
thereof  a  puhUc  exhibition  in  the  saloon.  All  this  is 
faithfully  and  promptl^^  borne  per  rail  over  the  Isth- 
mus, and  goes  over  to  the  Atlantic  steamer.  I  am 
conscientious  in  this  matter  of  gossip:  I  had  made 
resolutions.  There  was  a  lady  likewise  conscientious 
on  board,  and  one  night  upon  the  quarter-deck,  when 
we  had  talked  propriety  threadbare,  when  we  were 
both  bursting-  with  our  fill  of  observation,  we  met  each 
other  halfway  and  confessed  that  unless  we  indulged 
ourselves  also  in  a  Uttle  scandal  we  should  die,  and 
then,  the  flood-gates  being  opened,  how  we  riddled 
them !  But  there  is  a  ditfei'ence  between  criticism  of 
character  and  downright  scandal,  3'ou  know;  in  that 
way  did  we  poultice  our  bruised  consciences. 

On  a  voyage  everybody  has  confidences  to  make, 
private  griefs  to  disclose,  to  everybody  else.  This  is 
especially  the  case  during  the  first  few  days  out.  We 
feel  so  lone  and  lorn;  we  have  all  undergone  the 
misery  of  parting,  the  breaking  of  tender  ties;  we 
seem  a  huddle  of  human  units  shaken  by  chance  into 
the  same  box,  yet  scarcely  are  we  therein  settled  when 
we  begin  putting  forth  feelers  of  sympathy  and  recog- 
nition. There  was  one  young  man  who  seemed  to  me 
a  master  in  the  art  of  making  desirable  acquaintances 
for  the  trip.  He  entered  upon  his  work  ere  the  Golden 
Gate  had  sunk  below  the  horizon.  He  had  a  friendly 
word  for  all.  His  approach  and  address  were  prepos- 
sessing. He  spoke  to  me  kindh\  I  was  miserable  and 
flung  myself  upon  him  for  sympathy.  The  wretch 
Avas  merely  testing  me  as  a  compagnon  de  voyage. 
He  found  me  unsuitable.     He  flunc:  me  from  him  with 


2\)2 

easy  but  cold  politeness,  and  consorted  Avith  an  "edu- 
cated German  g-entleman/'  I  revenged  myself  by 
playing  the  same  tactics  on  a  sea-  and  love-sick  Ger- 
man carriage-maker.  "An  e^^e  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth,"  3'ou  know. 

We  touched  at  Magdalena  Bay  and  Punta  Arenas. 
We  expected  to  stay  at  Punta  Arenas  twelve  liouis  to 
discharg-e  a  quantity  of  flour.  Four  times  twelve 
hours  we  remained  there.  Everybody  became  Aery 
tired  of  Costa  Rica.  Tlie  Costa  Rican  is  not  hurried 
in  his  movements.  He  took  his  own  time  in  sending 
the  necessary  lighters  for  that  flour.  A  boat  load 
went  oir  once  in  four  hours.  The  Costa  Ricans  came  on 
board,  men  and  women,  great  and  small,  inspected  the 
Sacramento,  enjoyed  themselves,  went  on  shore  again, 
lay  down  in  the  shade  of  their  cocoanut  palms,  smoked 
their  cigarettes  and  slept  soundl}',  while  the  restless, 
uneasy  load  of  humanity'  on  the  American  steamer 
fretted,  fumed,  perspired,  scolded  at  Costa  Rican  lazi- 
ness and  ridiculed  the  Costa  Rican  government,  wiiich 
revolutionizes  once  in  six  months,  changes  its  flag  once 
a  year,  taxes  all  imi:)rovements,  and  acts  up  to  the 
principle  that  government  was  made  for  the  benefit  of 
those  wlio  govern.  Many  of  the  passengers  went  on 
shore.  Some  came  back  laden  with  tropical  flowers, 
others  full  of  brandy.  The  blossoms  filled  the  vessel 
the  whole  night  with  perfume,  while  the  brandy  pro- 
duced noise  and  badl^'-sung  popular  melodies. 

The  Grinder  went  on  shore  with  the  rest.  On  re- 
turning he  expressed  disgust  at  the  Costa  Ricans.  He 
thought  that  "nothing  could  ever  be  made  of  them." 
He  had  no  desire  th  it  the  United  States  should  ever 
assimilate  with  an^^  portion  of  the  Torrid  Zone.     He 


293 

predicted  that  such  a  fusion  would  prove  destructive 
to  American  eneri^y  and  intellig'ence.  We  had  enoug"h 
southern  territory  and  torpor  already.  The  man  has 
no  appreciation  of  the  indolence  and  repose  of  the 
tropics.  He  knows  not  that  the  most  delicious  of  en- 
joyments is  the  wakini^'  dream  under  the  feathery 
palm,  care  and  restlessness  flung  aside,  while  the  soid 
through  the  eye  loses  itself  in  the  blue  depths  above. 
He  would  doom  us  to  an  eternal  rack  of  civilization 
and  Progress-work— grind,  jerk,  hurry,  twist  and 
strain,  until  our  nerves,  by  exhaustion  unstrung  and 
sliattered,  allow  no  repose  of  mind  or  body;  and  even 
when  we  die  our  bones  are  so  infected  by  restlessness 
and  goaheaditiveness  that  they  rattle  uneasily  in  our 
coffins. 

Panama  sums  up  thus:  An  ancient,  walled,  red -tiled 
city,  full  of  convents  and  churches;  the  ramparts  lialf 
ruined;  weeds  springing  atop  the  steeples  and  bel- 
fries; a  fleet  of  small  boats  in  front  of  the  cit\';  Pro- 
g'ress  a  little  on  one  side  in  the  g'uise  of  the  Isthmus 
Railroad  depot,  cars,  eng-ines,  ferry-boat,  and  red,  iron 
lighters;  a  straggling  guard  of  parti-colored,  tawdry 
and  most  slovenh'-uniformed  soldiers,  with  French 
muskets  and  sabre  bayonets,  drawn  up  at  the  landing, 
commanded  by  an  officer  smartly  dressed  in  blue,  gold, 
kepi,  brass  buttons  and  stripes,  with  a  villainous  squint 
eye,  smoking  a  cigar.  About  the  car  windows  a  chat- 
tering crowd  of  blacks,  half  blacks,  quarter  blacks, 
coffee,  molasses,  brown,  nankeen  and  straw  colored 
natives,  thrusting  skinn^^  arms  in  at  the  windows,  and 
at  the  end  of  those  arms  parrots,  large  and  small,  in 
cages  and  out,  monke3's,  shells,  oranges,  bananas, 
carved  work,  and  i)earls  in  various  kinds  of  gold  set- 


294 

ting-;  all  of  which  were  sorel^^  tempting-  to  some  of  the 
ladies,  but  ere  nianj^  bargains  were  concluded  the  train 
clattered  otf,  and  we  were  crossing  the  continent. 

The  Isthmus  is  a  panorama  of  tropical  jungle;  it 
seems  an  excess,  a  dissii)ation  of  vegetation.  It  is  a 
place  favorable  also  for  the  study  of  external  black 
anatomj^  The  natives  kept  undressing  more  and  more 
as  we  roiled  on.  For  a  mile  or  two  after  leaving  Pan- 
ama the^^  did  affect  the  shirt.  Beyond  this,  that  gar- 
ment seemed  to  have  become  unfashionable,  and  tbe}^ 
stood  at  their  open  doors  with  the  same  unclothed  dig- 
nity that  characterized  Adam  in  the  Garden  of  Eden 
before  his  matrimonial  troubles  commenced.  Several 
young  ladies  in  our  care  first  looked  up,  then  down, 
then  across,  then  skleways:  then  they  looked  very 
grave,  and  finally  all  looked  at  each  other  and  unani- 
mously tittered. 

Aspinwall!  The  cars  stop;  a  black-and-tan  bat- 
talion charge  among  us,  offering  to  carr^^  baggage. 
They  pursue  us  to  the  gate  of  the  P.  M.  S.  S.  depot; 
there  they  stop;  we  pass  through  one  more  cluster  of 
oi"ange,  banana,  and  cigar  selling  women;  we  push  and 
jam  into  the  depot,  show  our  tickets,  and  are  on  board 
the  Ocean  Queen.  We  are  on  the  Atlantic  side!  It 
comes  over  us  half  in  awe,  half  in  wonder,  that  this 
boat  will,  if  she  do  not  reach  the  bottom  first,  carry 
us  straight  to  a  dock  in  New  York.  The  anticipation 
of  years  is  developing  into  tangibility. 

We  cross  the  Caribbean.  It  is  a  stormy  sea.  Our 
second  day  thereon  was  one  of  general  nausea  and 
depression.  You  have  perhaps  heard  the  air,  "  Sister, 
what  are  the  wild  waves  saying?"  On  that  black 
Friday  many  of  our  passengers  seemed  to  be  earnestlj^ 


295 

saying-  something  over  the  Ocean  Queen's  side  to  the 
"  wild,  wild  waves."  The  Grinder  went  down  with  the 
rest.  I  gazed  triumphantly  over  his  prostrate  form 
laid  out  at  full  length  on  a  cabm  settee.  Seward, 
Bancroft,  politics,  metaphysics,  poetry,  and  philosophy 
were  hushed  at  last.  Both  enthusiasm  and  patriotism 
find  an  uneasy  perch  on  a  nauseated  stomach. 

But  steam  has  not  robbed  navigation  of  all  its 
romance.  We  find  some  poetry-  in  smoke,  smoke 
stacks,  pipes,  funnels,  and  paddles,  as  well  as  in  the 
"  bellying  sails ''  and  the  "  white-wmged  messengers  of 
commerce.''  I  have  a  sort  of  worship  for  our  ponder- 
ous walking-beam,  which  swings  its  many  tons  of 
iron  upon  its  axis  as  lightly  as  a  lady's  parasol  held 
'twixt  thumb  and  finger.  It  is  an  embodiment  of 
strength,  grace,  and  faithfulness.  Night  and  day, 
mid  rain  and  sunshine,  be  the  sea  smooth  or  tempestu- 
ous, still  that  giant  arm  is  at  its  work,  not  swerving 
the  fractional  part  of  an  inch  from  its  appointed 
sphere  of  revolution.  It  is  no  dead  metallic  thing: 
it  is  a  something-  rejoicing  in  power  and  use.  It 
crunches  the  ocean  'neath  its  wheels  with  that  pride 
and  pleasure  of  power  wiiich  a  strong-  man  feels  when 
he  fights  his  way  throug-h  some  ig-noble  crowd.  The 
milder  powers  of  upper  air  more  feebly  impel  yon  ship; 
in  our  hold  are  the  powers  of  earth,  the  gnomes  and 
goblins,  the  subjects  of  Pluto  and  Vulcan,  begrimed 
with  soot  and  sweat,  and  the  elements  for  millions 
and  millions  of  years  imprisoned  in  the  coal  are  being 
steadily  set  free.  Every  shovelful  generates  a  mon- 
ster born  of  flame.  As  he  flies  sighing  and  groaning 
through  the  wide-mouthed  smokestack  into  the  upper 
air,  he  gives  our  hull  a  parting-  shove  forward. 


206 

A  death  in  the  steera.i;e — a  passenger  taken  on 
hoard  sick  at  Aspinwall.  All  day  long"  an  inanimate 
shape  wrapped  in  the  American  flag*  lies  near  the 
gangway.  At  four  p.  m.  an  assemblage  from  cabin  and 
steerage  gather  with  uncovered  heads.  The  surgeon 
reads  the  service  for  the  dead;  a  plank  is  lifted  up; 
with  a  last  shrill  whirl  that  which  was  once  a  man  is 
sliot  into  the  blue  waters;  in  an  instant  it  is  out  of 
sight  and  far  behind,  and  we  retire  to  our  state-rooms, 
thinking  and  solemnly  wondering  about  that  body 
sinking,  sinking,  sinking  in  the  depths  of  the  Carib- 
bean; of  the  sea  monsters  that  curiously  approach 
and  examine  it;  of  the  gradual  decay  of  the  corpse's 
canvas  envelope;  and  far  mto  the  night,  as  the  Ocean 
Queen  shoots  ahead,  our  thoughts  wander  back  in  the 
blackness  to  the  buried  ^x^t  unbui'ied  dead. 

The  Torrid  Zone  is  no  more.  This  morning  a  blast 
from  the  north  sweeps  down  upon  us.  Cold,  brassy 
clouds  are  in  the  sk^^r  the  ocean's  blue  has  turned  to  a 
dark,angr3^  brown,  fleecked  with  white  caps  and  swept 
by  blasts  fresh  from  the  home  of  the  nortliern  floe 
and  iceberg.  The  majority  of  the  passengers  gather 
about  the  cabin-registers,  like  the  house-flies  be- 
numbed by  the  flrst  cold  snap  of  autumn  in  our 
noi'thern  kitchens.  Light  coats,  pumps  and  other 
smnmer  apparel  have  given  way  to  heavy  boots,  over- 
coats, fur  caps  and  pea-jackets.  A  home  look  settles 
on  the  faces  of  the  North  Americans.  They  snufl" 
their  native  atmosphere :  the^^  feel  its  bracing  influ- 
ence. But  the  tawny-skinned  Central  Americans  who 
have  gradually  accumulated  on  board  from  the  Pacific 
ports  and  Aspinwall,  settle  inactively  into  corners  or 
rcMuaui  ensconced  in  their  berths.     The  air  which  kin- 


dies  our  energies  wilts  theirs.  The  hurricane-deck  is 
shorn  of  its  awning-s.  Only  a  few  old  "  sliell-back " 
passengers  maintain  their  place  upon  it,  and  yet  five 
days  ago  we  sat  there  in  midsummer  moonlit  even- 
ings. 

We  are  now  about  one  hundred  miles  from  Cape 
Hatteras.  Old  Mr.  Poddle  and  his  wife  are  travelling 
for  pleasure.  Came  to  California  b}-  rail,  concluded 
to  return  by  the  Isthmus.  Ever  since  we  started 
Cape  Hatteras  has  loomed  up  fearfully  in  their  imag- 
inations. Old  Ml".  Poddle  looks  knowingly  at  passing 
vessels  through  his  field-glass,  but  doesn't  know  a 
fore-and-aft  schooner  from  a  man-of-war.  Mrs«  Pod- 
dle once  a  day  inquires  if  there's  any  danger.  Mr. 
Poddle  does  not  talk  so  much,  but  evidently  in  private 
meditates  largely  on  hurricanes,  gales,  cyclones,  sink- 
ing and  burning  vessels.  Last  night  we  came  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Gulf  Stream.  There  were  flashes 
of  lightning, '*  mare's  tails"  in  the  sk}^  a  freshening 
breeze  and  an  increasing  sea.  About  eleven  old  Mr. 
Poddle  came  on  deck.  Mrs.  Poddle,  haunted  by  Hat- 
teras, had  sent  him  out  to  see  if  "there  was  an^^  dan- 
ger;" for  it  is  evident  that  Mrs.  Poddle  is  dicta  tress 
of  the  domestic  empire.  Mr.  Poddle  ascended  to  the 
hurricane-deck,  looked  nervously  to  leeward,  and  just 
then  an  old  passenger  salt  standing  by,  who  had  dur- 
ing the  entire  passage  comijrehended  and  enjoyed  the 
Poddletonian  dreads,  remarked,  "  This  is  nothing  to 
what  we  shall  have  by  morning."  This  shot  sent 
Poddle  below.  This  morning  at  breakfast  the  pair 
looked  harassed  and  fatigued. 

The  great  question  now  agitating  the  mind  of  this 
floating  communitv  is,  "  Shall  we  reach  the  New  York 


298 

pier  at  the  foot  of  Canal  street  by  Saturday  noon  ?  " 
If  we  do,  there  is  for  us  all  long-  life,  prosperity  and 
happiness :  if  we  do  not,  it  is  desolation  and  miser3^ 
For  Monday  is  New  Year's  Day.  On  Sunday  we  may 
not  be  able  to  leave  the  city :  to  be  forced  to  stay  in 
New  York  over  Sunday  is  a  dreadful  thought  for 
solitary  contemplation.  We  study  and  turn  it  over 
in  our  minds  for  hours  as  we  pace  the  deck.  We  live 
over  and  over  again  the  land-journey  to  our  hearth- 
stones at  Boston,  Syracuse,  and  Cincinnati.  We  meet 
in  thoug'ht  our  long-expectant  relatives,  so  that  at  last 
our  air-castles  become  stale  and  monotonous,  and  we 
fear  that  the  reality  may  be  robbed  of  half  its  antici- 
pated pleasure  from  being  so  often  lived  over  in  imag- 
ination. 

Nine  o'clock,  Friday  evening.  The  excitement  in- 
creases. Barnegat  Light  is  in  sig-ht.  Half  the  cabin 
passengers  are  up  all  night,  indulging  in  unprofitable 
talk  and  weariness,  merely  because  Ave  are  so  near 
home.  Four  o'clock,  and  the  faithful  engine  stops, 
the  cable  rattles  overboard,  and  everything  is  still. 
We  are  at  anchor  off  Staten  Island.  By  the  first 
laggard  streak  of  winter's  dawn  I  am  on  the  hurri- 
cane-deck. I  am  curious  to  see  my  native  North.  It 
comes  by  degrees  out  of  the  cold  blue  fog"  on  either 
side  of  the  bay.  Miles  of  houses,  spotted  with  patches 
of  bush^'-looking  woodland — bushy  in  appearance  to 
a  Californian,  whose  oaks  grow  large  and  Avidely 
apart  from  each  other,  as  in  an  English  park.  There 
comes  a  shrieking  and  groaning  and  bellowing  of 
steam-whistles  from  the  monster  city  nine  miles  awa}^ 
Soon  we  weigh  anchor  and  move  up  toward  it.  Tugs 
dart  fiercely  about,  or  laboriously  puff  with  lieavily- 


299 

laden  vessels  in  tow.  Stately  ocean  steamers  surg-e 
past,  outward  bound.  We  become  a  mere  frag-ment 
of  the  mass  of  floating  life.  We  near  the  foot  of  Canal 
street.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  shouting  and  bawling 
and  counter-shouting  and  counter-bawling,  with  ex- 
pectant faces  on  the  wharf,  and  recognitions  from 
shore  to  steamer  and  from  steamer  to  shore.  The 
young'  woman  who  flirted  so  ardently  with  the  young 
Californian  turns  out  to  be  married,  and  that  busi- 
ness-looking, middle-aged  man  on  the  pier  is  her  hus- 
band. Well,  I  never!  Why,  you  are  slow,  my  friend, 
says  inward  reflection.  You  are  not  versed  in  the 
customs  of  the  East.  At  last  the  gangway  plank  is 
flung  out.  We  walk  on  shore.  It  is  now  eighteen 
years  since  that  little  floating  world  society  cemented 
by  a  month's  association  scattered  forever  from  each 
other's  sight  at  the  Canal  street  pier. 


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